


A Date with Destiny

by DracoTerrae



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, F/M, Humor, Romance, Secret Relationship, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoTerrae/pseuds/DracoTerrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s a Date with Destiny!”  “Funny, I don’t remember me giving Destiny my number.  And last time I checked his name wasn’t Bellamy Blake.” </p><p>Clarke has been in a dating slump, or so her best friend Wells claims.  He plans to remedy this situation by signing her up for the new dating app:  A Date with Destiny.<br/>More than anything, Octavia wants her big brother to finally have a solid, healthy relationship (not to mention, get off her back a little) and this new app seems like the perfect solution.<br/>But what happens when the app sets up Clarke and Bellamy on “A Date with Destiny”?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Set Up

Clarke sat in the living room of her best friend’s apartment.  She had been friends with Wells since before she could properly form sentences, one of the perks of their parents being well-known members of a small upper-class society. 

“How exactly did we end up watching Lord of the Rings, again?” Clarke asked Wells as she glanced up to see the battle of Helms Deep well underway.

“You said you didn’t care what we watched and it was already in the DVD player,” Wells explained exasperatedly.

“Yeah, because we never took it out last weekend.”

“Are you saying Lord of the Rings isn’t good enough for you?” Wells voice had now taken on an accusatory tone.

“Of course not!” Clarke voiced her defense.  “Lord of the Rings is always a good choice, but we could have at least moved on to Return of the King.”

“Like I said, I was feeling lazy and Two Towers was already set to play.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and laughed a little, “Shows how much motivation we have after work.”

“A truer statement has never been spoken,” Wells replied sharing in her laugh.  “A day may come when I have the energy to change the DVD, but today is not that day.”

“Why am I friends with such a nerd?” she asked him.

“You got stuck with me at birth and were never able to shake me.”

“And boy did I try,” she joked. 

They had been through a lot together, up to and including the death of a parent.  When Wells was but ten years old, he lost his mother.  Wells’ father, a prominent judge in Arkadia, had convicted a woman and sentenced her to ten years in prison; the husband of this woman was outraged by the verdict.  He shot Wells’ mother while she was gardening outside their home.  He told the police that if he had to live without his wife, then Judge Jaha should too.  Wells had been at Clarke’s house when it happened, she refused to leave his side until a week after the funeral.

Unfortunately, Wells got to return the favor when seven years later Clarke’s father was killed by a drunk driver while riding his motorcycle.  When he first brought it home, Clarke’s mother, Abby, had scolded her husband for buying such an irresponsible vehicle that was going to get him killed one day.  He had laughed her off, teasingly telling his wife she needed to “learn to live a little.”  In a cruel twist of fate, “a little” was all he had; the accident happened merely eight months later.

Fast-forward twenty-five years and the two friends were still just as close, choosing to live in the same city after Clarke had gotten her nursing degree and Wells his law degree; they now resided in the city of TonDC, a three-hour drive from their hometown of Arkadia.

On nights like these, after completing long hours at the free clinic and law firm respectively, the two would catch a late dinner and enjoy each other’s company.  Having finished dinner, they were now sitting on opposite ends of the couch, both with their computers in their laps and a movie running in the background.

Looking down at her computer screen, she noticed an ad on the sidebar, one that she had seen repeatedly throughout the past month. “Why does Facebook constantly give me ads for this new dating app?” she complained.

Wells let out a hearty laugh.  “Because even Facebook knows you’re in a dating slump.”

“I am _not_ in a dating slump!” Clarke cried defensively as she threw a pillow at her friend who was sitting across from her on the couch.  “But, seriously, this one even has a video!  You have got to be kidding me!”

“Play it!” Wells insisted, scooting closer.

Clarke rolled her eyes, but hit play, setting her laptop on the coffee table so that they could both see.  The screen lit up with a video featuring a white background and pink scrolling words.  A soothing feminine voice spoke, voicing over a cheesy video of couples on dates and even at a wedding ceremony, “Do you believe in fate?  Do you believe that there is someone out there for everyone?  Here at A Date with Destiny we believe that everyone has a soul mate, but maybe some of us may need a little help finding that person.  That’s where we come in!  Through the latest technology available and a little hands-on overview by our experts, we will help you find your soul mate.  We will set you up on your date with destiny!”

The video ended with a link and a message to “sign up today” bordered on either side by a Greek or Roman statue, probably one that was supposed to be the god, Destiny. Clarke shook her head, “That literally makes _no sense_.” Her tone became mocking, “We believe that there is one person out there for you, but we will set you up on thirty dates until you figure out which one it is.”

“Now, don’t get mad, but I’m just saying, sign up and go on a few dates; you may not meet _the one_ like it says you will, but at least you’ll have spent time with someone other than a patient or myself.”

“Are you saying you’re sick of me?” Clarke teased.

“Yes, Clarke,” Wells said, keeping a perfectly straight face. “That is exactly what I’m saying.”  Clarke just gave him a deadpan look.  “Okay,” he relented.  “But you seriously should go out sometime.  I literally cannot remember the last time you dated someone.” He barked a laugh.  “I can’t even remember the last time you went out on a singular date.”

“Hey,” Clarke defended.  “I dated that Nylah girl not too long ago.”

“That was _at least_ three months ago, and it was only like three dates, or well hook-ups.”

Clarke started counting back the weeks since she had last seen Nylah and realized the truth of what Wells said.  “I get asked out a lot at work,” she tried.

“And how many times have you said yes?” he countered.

“Umm…it’s not appropriate to date patients or coworkers…?” She was at a loss.  Dating was just not a priority in her life right now.  She had settled into life in TonDC not even a full year ago and felt like she was only just finding a good rhythm at the clinic.  She had even found a local art studio where she taught a few night classes in exchange for some free studio time for herself.  Life was going well, she had things in order; she just didn’t see romance as a necessity in her book right now.  It may or may not have had something to do with her past failed relationships, like when she thought she was headed to a good place with a girl named Lexa, who ended up telling her that “love is weakness” and dumping her.  Or when she thought she made a real connection with a guy after a few dates, only to have his girlfriend call her up from his phone.  In the latter case, she had helped Raven, the girlfriend, set up Finn and just sat back to watch as Raven tore him apart in the restaurant. 

She did have to admit, it would be nice to have that special someone in her life, but there was no way A) that she would admit to Wells that she was indeed in a dating slump, or B) that a stupid dating app could help her get out of it. The voice in her head let out a sardonic scoff at the image that arose in her mind:  her high school crush.  Seven years later and that mop of dark curly hair and smattering of freckles were where her mind went when she thought of having “that special someone” in her life?  Jeez, all they had ever done was bicker and that’s what her mind came up with for a good relationship?  She really needed to get her priorities straight.

Wells nodded his head in acknowledgement of her no dating at work excuse, but his face showed that he remained unconvinced.  Clarke’s phone went off; it was her alarm saying that she should probably be heading home to sleep before her early shift tomorrow.  She gathered her things, gave Wells a hug good-bye and as she was closing the door reminded him, “I am not in a dating slump.” 

 

* * *

  

Wells shook his head at the closed door.  He loved Clarke; she was his sister and she deserved to be happy.  She was always more worried about other peoples’ happiness and well-being more than her own; and because she was also the most stubborn and driven person he had ever met, her own needs and happiness often went overlooked.  An idea struck him.  Acting upon it before he could overthink or regret it, he walked over to his computer and typed “A Date with Destiny app” into the search bar.  He clicked the link, and began setting up an account.  “She’ll thank me one day,” he reassured himself.  “If she doesn’t kill me first.”

 

* * *

 

Bellamy stood in his kitchen cooking dinner for himself and his sister.  They had both moved to TonDC following Octavia’s graduation from university two years ago.  With her new business and marketing BA and a huge loan from the bank, she had opened her own coffee shop named Grounders; Bellamy was not about to let his sister move three hours away without him and managed to get a position teaching for the Classics department at a local college in the same city.  Despite having to put up with her constantly pushing the limits of his sanity twenty-three of his twenty-seven years of life, he couldn’t have loved her anymore.

From the moment she was born, Octavia had been his responsibility, especially since their mom, Aurora, was always working long hours as a maid at the town’s high-end five-star hotel.  She did her best to support their small family of three after Bellamy and Octavia’s deadbeat father left before Octavia’s first birthday, but in the end neither child could have asked for a happier childhood.  During Bellamy’s senior year, Octavia’s sophomore, Aurora had died of a heart attack; Bellamy had overheard the doctors say that had someone found her sooner, she would have lived.  He still blamed himself for staying late at soccer practice that day.  He knew Octavia was going over to a friend’s house after fencing practice, but he figured his mom could use a little time with the house to herself, and so he had stayed to help the team’s new goalie practice penalty kicks; of all the things in his life, he regretted saying yes to the kid more than anything. 

Having turned eighteen the summer before—he started school a year late due to his good-for-nothing father not filling out paperwork on time—he was able to get custody of his sister, but just barely.  Relying on his mother’s life insurance, a part-time job, and a couple loans from the generous owner of the hotel at which his mother had worked, Bellamy had been able to finish high school and attend community college while taking care of his sister. 

When Grounders started to become a more stable establishment, Octavia decided she needed to get her own place—a decision Bellamy had not been happy with.  However, the two had made a pact to set aside time every Saturday to have dinner together, no excuses, be there or be prepared to get a two-hour lecture, minimum.  There was a definite pattern of who was on the giving and receiving end of that lecture.

Octavia looked at her brother from her spot at the breakfast bar, watching him cook his famous homemade pizza.  “It’s different this time, Bell, I promise.”

“Did I or did I not hear that the last time you and Atom got back together.  I told you from the beginning that guy is bad news.  You should have let me string him up from the oak tree the first time I caught you together.”  Bellamy hated his little sister’s boyfriend.  Though the “ex” in front of boyfriend was there just as frequently as it wasn’t.  To be honest, he didn’t think there was a man alive who was worthy of Octavia, and most definitely not Atom.

“No.  It’s not Atom!” she scoffed.  “God, no.  It’s a new guy.  His name is Lincoln and he’s smart, and nice, and mature.”

Bellamy shook his head, “He’s not good enough for you, O.”

“You haven’t even met him!” she screeched.  Bickering between the two of them was a common occurrence and both knew that everything would be fine by the end of the night.

“I don’t need to,” he returned.  “You deserve, the sun, the moon, and the stars.  Until a guy can give you all that, he’s not worth your time.”

Octavia groaned in annoyance; this was far from the first time they had had this argument.  “If you ever had an actual girlfriend, you would understand.”

“I _have_ had an actual girlfriend,” Bellamy defended.

“Oh, yeah?  When?” Octavia questioned with a stern raised eyebrow.

“Gina.  I dated her for a long time.”

“Oh, yes,” Octavia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Two whole months with the same girl.  It was such a serious relationship.”

Bellamy huffed and spread the dough into the pan, before adding the sauce and cheese.  “Hey, she was really special to me,” he tried to insist, not fully believing what he was saying himself.  Octavia may have been right, but there was no way he was going to admit that to her.  He had always just thought that if he found the right girl, he wouldn’t get bored; when the right girl came along he would just _know_ and he wouldn’t _want_ to be with anyone else.  But the closest thing he had ever come to having a steady relationship was with a snarky little blonde he loved to rile up back in high school.  No, it hadn’t been a romantic relationship, at least he hadn’t acted on his crush (though he would never admit that word aloud to anyone then or now), it had just been someone who was a continuous presence for him during his high school days, someone who always happened to be just around the corner and who loved getting under his skin, just as much as he loved getting under hers.  He shook himself out of his thoughts and began adding the toppings to the pizza before throwing it into the oven. 

“Please, big brother, just give him a chance,” Octavia pleaded with him.  “I promise you he is different from everyone I’ve dated in the past.  He challenges me, but in a good way.  He doesn’t take my shit.  And he’s super protective.  And oh my god, he reminds me of you.”  She looked slightly horrified by her own realization.

Bellamy laughed, “I guess if he can keep you in line at least a little—god knows I struggle with it sometimes—I’ll give him a chance to prove he’s worthy.  But just one!”

“You won’t regret it!  And then we’ll find you a girlfriend.  One who you won’t get bored of,” _she knew him too well_ , “and then we can both be happy.”

“Octavia, you know I hate it when you try to set me up with one of your friends.”

“I know, I know. They don’t keep your interest.  Plus, _you_ know _I_ hate it when you just sleep with my friends and don’t call them.”

“I make it perfectly clear that it’s a one-time thing.”

Octavia groaned ignoring his comment, “You can’t deny that you would like to have ‘that special someone’ in your life long-term.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bellamy said dismissively, “assuming it’s actually possible to _find_ that person.”

“It is, Bell; she’s out there.  Don’t worry.”

 

* * *

  

Octavia was back at her apartment after her weekly dinner with her brother.  As she browsed through Facebook, an ad popped up in the sidebar.  She rolled her eyes, she’s already had her “date with destiny” and she was very happy with the last few weeks she’d had with Lincoln.  Then she had an idea; _she_ may have had her date with destiny, but her brother could still use one.  She followed the link and began setting up a profile.


	2. The Date

Bellamy was sitting leisurely on his couch going over Latin tests from his first year students, when Octavia burst into his apartment. 

“You’re early,” he remarked.

“Yeah, well, I need to help you get ready,” she announced, trying to sound nonchalant but failing.

“Ready for what?”  Bellamy asked suspiciously.  He set down the collection of papers in his hand and turned to look at his sister.  She was smiling _too_ innocently at him, a look from which he knew nothing good could come.

“So, I may or may not have done something that you’re probably going to want to murder me for…”

“Octavia,” he said in a warning tone. 

“So, you’ve heard of that new dating app?  A Date with Destiny?”

“You didn’t.” He knew where this was going and he did not like it.

“I did.  And you have a date tonight with someone I think you’re really going to have a good time with.  Strike that.  Someone I _know_ you’re going to have a good time with.”

“You set me up?  On a date?  With someone whose profile you read online?”  Bellamy was astounded at the lengths his sister would go when she got one of her crazy ideas into her head; for example, him needing a long-term girlfriend.

“Yup,” she said happily as if she had done nothing wrong or out of the ordinary.  “And now you’ve got to get ready.  You’re meeting her at The Dropship at 6:00.”

“It’s Saturday,” he said trying to get out of it.  “Saturday is my dinner with _you_.”

“Exactly,” Octavia explained as if it were obvious.  “It was the only night I could be sure you wouldn’t have something else going on.”

“I’m not going,” he stated blatantly.

“So you’re going to stand her up?” she questioned, an eyebrow upturned.  “You and I both know you would never do that to a girl.”  Bellamy narrowed his eyes at his sister; she was _not_ going to get him to go on this date no matter what she said.

 

...

 

An hour and a half later he was sitting on his motorcycle outside the restaurant, “Who names a restaurant The Dropship, anyway?” he asked himself before walking in and claiming the reservation his sister made.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why did we have to get dressed up for this?” Clarke questioned Wells for the zillionth time as she sat in his car outside a restaurant.

“It’s a nice place, and sometimes it’s good to get dressed up for no reason.” Clarke noted a slight question in the tone of his voice, but let it slide for the moment.

Clarke looked up the sign above the door, “And what kind of name is ‘The Dropship’ for a restaurant, anyway?”

“Apparently they’re well-known for their lemon drop martinis,” Wells explained, the unspoken question still in his tone. 

Clarke couldn’t take the slight nervousness in him any longer. “What’s up, Wells?  You’ve been acting strange all night.”

“I, uh…don’t hate me,” he said quickly holding up his hands like criminals do when caught by the cops.

Her voice dropped.  Annunciating every word, she asked, “What did you do?”

"So, you know that dating app you were complaining about the other week…”

“Yeah…” Clarke replied.  She closed her eyes hoping she could somehow erase what she knew was about to happen next. “Please don’t tell me what I think you’re about to tell me.” She opened her eyes and gave him her patented glare.

“I, uh…I made you a profile—” He was refusing to look her directly in the eye, opting to have his head down and only give her a side look.  His face told her that he knew she wasn’t going to be happy but had done it anyway.  “And I, uh, I set you up on a date…”

“Wells Jaha, I am going to murder you!  Not right now, there are far too many witnesses, but one day soon…” Clarke threatened.  “I told you I’m not in a dating slump!  And you know how ridiculous I said that app was!”

“But I already confirmed with the guy.  He seemed like a good match online.  I didn’t really talk to him, just said I, you, would prefer to meet face to face.  He seemed amendable to that option and suggested this place.  And now you can’t just leave and blow him off, Clarke.  No one deserves to be stood up.”

Clarke glared at him.  She hated the idea of someone getting their hopes up for a date only to be crushed when the other person didn’t show; and she especially hated to be the one to let other people down.  “Fine. I’ll walk in the restaurant. You’re coming with me.  If he looks like a total ass, we’ll walk up, explain that you made the profile not me, apologize and leave. Sound good?”

“That’s the best I’m getting for this situation, isn’t it?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes, no nonsense in her voice, “You bet your ass it is.”

Clarke waited until Wells had gotten out of the car before she did the same; there was no way she was going to let him even think about pulling away and leaving her stranded.  They walked into the restaurant together.

Wells approached the hostess.  “Reservation for Blake?” he asked before quickly adding, “She’s here to meet him.  I’m just dropping her off.”  Clarke started at the name he gave, but immediately shook her head, dismissing the errant thought of something that was completely impossible.

“Aren’t you a lucky one,” the hostess told her with a wink.  “He’s the one down there,” she gestured to the left.  “Second window table.”

Clarke followed where she pointed and stared, not believing what she was seeing.  It couldn’t possibly be who she thought it was.  She gaped at the mop of dark curly hair surrounding a familiar face she knew would show a smattering of freckles when she got closer. 

“I know, right?” the hostess said.

“It’s a date with Destiny,” Wells teased, misinterpreting her gaping for awestruck.

Clarke let out a scornful laugh at his word play, “Funny, I don’t remember _me_ giving ‘Destiny’ my number.  And last time I checked his name wasn’t Bellamy Blake.”

“You know him?” Wells inquired in disbelief.  “No, wait a second, I _do_ remember that name.  You used to talk about him all the time when we went to high school.”

“Yeah,” Clarke acknowledged.  “You should be glad you got to go to Alpha Prep instead of public school; _he_ ” she emphasized, pointing to the man sitting alone at the table, “was more often than not the reason I wanted to pull out all my hair half the time.”

It was Wells’ turn to laugh.  “But if I recall correctly all that hair tearing was in part because you had a huge crush on him.”

“Shut up,” Clarke snapped. 

“Well, my work here is done,” he said happily.  “We have established he is not a total ass; I’m going now.”  And with that he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

“But he is an ass,” Clarke called after him a little too loudly, resulting in a few heads turning in her direction, including the subject of the conversation.

Bellamy looked at her for a second, scrutinizing her.  “Princess? **”** he asked.  “Clarke?  Clarke Griffin?” He started to get up.

“Hi,” Clarke said awkwardly as she walked towards him, noticing that somehow him calling her by that nickname still made her heart flutter slightly in her chest.  She paused.  “So, funny story…I’m your date.”

Bellamy smirked the signature smirk that haunted her dreams all throughout high school.  “So, you were only able to hold in your undying attraction for me for what?”  he counted on his fingers, “Seven years? Before you track me down with a dating app?” he teased.

“No,” Clarke said vehemently.  “I did _not_ sign up for that dating app.  That was my friend, Wells.  _He_ signed me up.  _He_ made my profile.  _He_ set up this date.  Which come to think of it, _he_ wouldn’t have recognized your picture, but _you_ would have recognized _mine_.  So who’s pining after whom now?”

“Hate to burst your bubble, Princess, but I didn’t make my profile either.  Octavia—you remember Octavia, right—she made my profile and set up this date.”

Clarke was confused, “But Octavia knows me, she’s friends with me on Facebook…Unlike Wells with you, she knows exactly who I am.  Why would she set you up on a date with _me_?”

Bellamy’s smirk dropped abruptly as what Clarke was saying fully dawned on him.  “I’m gonna kill her,” he said.  Clarke’s heart dropped; she knew that hadn’t always gotten along smoothly in high school, but that was a low blow.  Her face must have dropped too because Bellamy quickly said, “Oh god, not because it’s you; she promised me her matchmaking with people she knew was over.  Not that I wasn’t already planning on killing her for this whole Date with Destiny nonsense anyway.”

Clarke’s heart settled.  “Hmm, at least we have that in common:  planning the murder of the person who set up this date.”

“Sounds like great dinner conversation,” he said returning her smile. “Just take your seat already and we can help each other plan the perfect murder over appetizers.”

Clarke sat down in the chair across from Bellamy and indeed they joked about planning the murders of Wells and Octavia until their appetizer arrived.  She was surprised at how easy the conversation was; she literally hadn’t seen Bellamy in seven years and yet somehow this was the smoothest first date she had been on in a long time, perhaps ever.  Not only that, but it was also probably the smoothest conversation she had ever had with Bellamy; their high school interactions mostly consisted of bickering and teasing.

“Your artichoke dip,” the waitress said, placing the food on the table.  Clarke smiled her thanks. 

As the waitress walked away, Bellamy turned to Clarke, “So, Princess, what have you been up to these past seven years?”

“Umm…let’s see.  After graduation I went to Phoenix University and eventually got my degree in Medicine.  I moved here a little less than a year ago after getting a job at the free clinic on 31st.  I also teach a few night classes at an art studio.  Basically, I’ve just been keeping busy at work and such,” Clarke told him. “How about you?”

Bellamy chuckled. “Well, when Octavia got into university, I transferred from Ark Community to Polis U and finished my BA and then MA in Classics.  Now I’m teaching at TonDC Community College.”

“Oh god, you’re teaching America’s youth?  What has the world come to?” Clarke teased.

“Not all of us can be saving lives, Princess,” he retorted, a smile spread on his face.

“No, no.  Don’t get me wrong.  Teaching is a very noble profession.  And normally I would consider it saving the youth and future from desolation and ignorance, but it’s _you_.  You were always such a bad influence and getting people into trouble.”

Bellamy held a hand to his chest in mock offense.  “How could you accuse me of such things?”

“High school, sophomore year—well, your junior year—I do recall the soccer coach having to negotiate with the principal to let him punish the team rather than have you all in detention for the week.”

“Hey, how do you know it was me that led that prank?”

Clarke simply raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe…but if _someone_ had a good humor about it…”

“I can’t believe you still think that was me!” Clarke exclaimed, affronted.  “It was Trina Babcook!  I told you that in high school!”

“Seriously, Princess?  The look you gave me when those buckets tipped.”

“Yeah, I was pissed; we had literally just cleaned up for school after a crappy morning of practice—which felt like we were on the cross country team, not the soccer team—and getting covered with mud was not exactly what we had in mind before first period.  Most of us didn’t want you all to get in trouble because we knew you were just getting back at us for the paint balloons, but Trina didn’t care.”

“You’re still trying to convince me of that, Princess?  With that look you were giving me, there is now way you would have let me get away with that.”

They had had this argument countless times in high school; Bellamy always refused to believe Clarke when she said she had nothing to do with telling the principal, and Clarke was adamant that it was the girls’ teams’ prima donna goalie who turned the boys in. 

But unlike all their previous arguments, Clarke was no longer afraid of retaliation and revealed her long-kept secret.  “Who says I let you get away with it?” she asked with a coy smile.

Bellamy’s eyes widened in realization of what she was saying, a light bulb alighting in his head. “It was _you_? _You_ were the one who filled my cleats with mud?”

Clarke smiled and nodded.

“I had always blamed the team!  I thought they were mad because we got caught and held me responsible because it was my idea.”

“Nope, it was me,” she continued to smile.  “I felt bad for half a second after I heard you guys had to report to the principal and I thought I was adding insult to injury. Then I remembered it was _you_ and didn’t feel bad anymore.” 

Bellamy shook his head, but a smile remained on his face.  “You shouldn’t have said that.  You’d better watch your back, Princess.”

“I’ll take my chances,” she replied.  She paused, debating whether or not to voice the thought that was running through her head; she took the plunge, adding, “Especially if it means you’re sticking around.”

As much as they had fought in high school, she had still enjoyed being around Bellamy.  And now after reconnecting, even for the fifteen minutes that they had been sitting at the table, she wanted to see where this was going.

In response to her profession, Bellamy took her hand that had been playing with her straw wrapper and interlaced their fingers.  “Want to know a secret?”

Clarke looked at their entwined hands.  “Sure,” she said softly.

“I kind of had a crush on you in high school,” he admitted.

“You never gave me a moment of peace!  You were constantly picking on me and pulling me into fights!” she exclaimed, unbelieving.

“Yeah, well what else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, ask me out maybe.”

“Like you would’ve said yes,” he scoffed.  “You gave as good as you got; you were constantly at my throat!”

“What was I supposed to do?  Sit back and take your shit?”  She paused, a small smile creeping over her features, “Also, I may or may not have also had a crush on you and it was pretty much the only way we ever interacted.  But if you had asked me out, I would have said yes to you in a heartbeat.”

Bellamy let out a laugh, “Well, we sure knew how to communicate our feelings,” he said sarcastically.  He sighed, “Probably would have ended up badly anyway.  I wouldn’t have been able to handle the relationship you deserved.”

Clarke chuckled, “We probably wouldn’t have known how to not constantly fight.”  After a second she added somewhat sadly, “Especially our junior-slash-senior year.” She was referring to the year that both her father and his mother had died.  Neither teen had taken the death of their parent well and hated even more that everyone felt the need to tip-toe around them.  As a result, they had taken out their anger and frustrations at losing a parent by fighting with each other, the only person who felt no need to pity or tread gently around them.

“Yeah, we definitely wouldn’t have lasted through that ordeal,” Bellamy agreed.  “Though I never did thank you for all that you did for Octavia in those days and in high school in general.”

“For what?” Clarke asked incredulously.

“You knew she didn’t always want to be home or around me and you helped her keep herself busy and take out her frustrations with fencing and archery.  And I _know_ you and your family were the ‘anonymous sponsor’ that helped her pay dues and get equipment and such.”

“I understood her.  You may recall that I didn’t exactly want to be home after my father died.  And you know probably more than me that Octavia deserved to have all the opportunities she wanted.”

“Yes, on both accounts.  How many things were you involved with in high school?  I swear you were constantly running around doing one thing or another.”

Clarke laughed and began counting, “Soccer, of course, and fencing and archery.  Then there was violin lessons and drawing classes.  So, you know, not too much.”

“Clearly minimal activities,” he agreed in a joking manner.

Bellamy and Clarke spent the rest of dinner chatting and reminiscing about their high school days, talking and joking, and of course arguing about who remembered a certain event better than the other.  When the bill came, Clarke tried to grab it, but Bellamy refused to let her even split the bill; she pouted, but relented after a short while, recognizing the tell-tale signs that Bellamy wasn’t going to give in.

They walked to the parking lot, Clarke having told him that her ride, Wells, ditched her as soon as he knew she recognized her date.  “Over here,” Bellamy told her leading her in the direction of a motorcycle.

“Please tell me that’s not yours,” she told him gesturing to the two wheeled vehicle.

“And if it is?” he questioned.

“There is no way I’m riding on that thing,” she informed him.

“Come on, Princess.  Learn to live a little.”  The words echoed in her head, bringing her back to the first time she had heard that phrase in reference to a motorcycle.  She saw the scene unfold in her mind:

_Abby Griffin was making dinner, it was one of those rare days in which she was able to come home and put her cooking prowess to work in time for dinner.  Clarke was sitting at the breakfast bar chatting with her mom and casually studying for a history exam she had the next day.  Jake walked into the room, a smile on his face, a helmet in his hand.  He walked over and gave Clarke a kiss on the head before embracing his wife._

_“What exactly is that in your hand, Jake?” Abby questioned her husband with a stern look._

_“A motorcycle helmet,” he replied casually._

_“Jacob Griffin!” Abby shouted.  “Do you know how many people come into the ER with injuries from riding around on one of those death traps?”_

_“That’s what the helmet is for,” he replied with a grin._

_“Helmets don’t prevent all injuries,” Abby continued.  “I can’t believe you would buy such an irresponsible vehicle. It’s going to get you killed, Jake!” She turned to her daughter, “There is no way I am allowing you on that thing, Clarke.  You hear me?  No motorcycles. Ever.”_

_“Learn to live a little, Abby,” Jake told his wife, kissing her on the cheek._

Her mind flashed-forward to eight months after that conversation to her and her mom sitting in the hospital.  The doctor coming out with an apologetic look on his face and both of the women knowing exactly what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

She was brought back to the present by Bellamy’s hand cupping her face and peering into her tear-filled eyes.  “Clarke, I’m so sorry.  I forgot that’s how your dad…I’m sorry.”

She gave him a sad smile. “It’s not that.  Well, not _just_ that,” she told him.  “It’s what you said.  It’s what my dad told my mom when he brought the motorcycle home.  I—” her voice faded out.

“Clarke, you don’t have to explain.  I understand.  We’ll call you a cab and get you home. No worries,” he told her, moving his hand from her face to grasp her hand and play with her fingers and using the other to get out his phone and begin dialing a number.  “Hi, yeah, can I get a cab?—Yup. Perfect.—Pick up at the Dropship.—Oh, you know it?—Okay, thanks. We’ll be outside.—Bye.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said quietly.

“I’ll just come back and get my bike after we get you home,” Bellamy said, still holding her hand.

Clarke gave him a dubious look, “So you’re going to ride in a cab with me all the way to my apartment and then take it all the way back here to get your motorcycle?”

“Yes,” he said bluntly.

“No,” she returned, taking back her hand so she could cross her arms and gave him a stern look.

“You can’t stop me,” he told her, looking just as stern.

“It’s utterly absurd!”

“It’s happening, Princess.  You can either accept it or live in denial.”

“I just won’t get in the cab,” she shook her head.  She couldn’t believe how stubborn this man could be.

“Princess, please.  I made you upset, I just want to make sure you’re okay and that you get home safely.  And who’s to say the cab driver isn’t an insane serial murderer?”

“So you called me a serial killer cab driver? Yup, that sounds like a solid plan,” she told him sarcastically.  How in the world did he think that was a legitimate, persuasive argument?  She looked at him questioningly, “And you think you’d be able to stop him?”

“Clarke” he threw his head back, groaning in aggravation. “Please, just let me do the gentlemanly thing and make sure you get home safely and walk you to your door.” 

Clarke laughed, “You just want the goodnight kiss.”

His demeanor changed abruptly.  He took a step closer, crowding her, a mischievous smile arising on his lips as his eyes drifted to her own. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Clarke smirked in response; it would be a lie to say that she wasn’t thinking about that goodnight kiss, too.  “I’ll make you a deal,” she told him.  “You get your goodnight kiss _here_ when the cab comes and you don’t take a superfluous cab ride.  And then I’ll text you when I get home, so you know you didn’t really call a serial killer cabbie.”

“Okay, deal,” he said, a satisfied look on his face.  “Oh look, there’s the cab,” he said pointing.  Clarke turned her head, but saw no cab.  When she turned back to inform him of this she was met by his lips on hers.  She sank into the kiss, sliding her hand around his neck and into the hair at the base of his head.  His own arm wrapped around her back and tugged her into his body, his other hand weaving into her hair to hold the back of her head.

They were still locked into this moment when a cab pulled into the parking lot.  Clarke pulled back, breaking the kiss.  “The cab’s here,” she told him.

“That means I get my kiss, right?” he teased.

She laughed, but it was swallowed by another kiss as he brought his lips down to hers.  After a moment, Bellamy broke the kiss.

Clarke looked up at him shyly, “So we’re giving this a go, right?  It’s not just me?”

“No, definitely not,” he responded.  His eyes widened, “As in definitely not just you; I want to give this a go, too.”

She smiled and bit her lip.  “Okay…well, I’ll call you when I get home?”

“Sounds good, Princess. Looking forward to it.”

Clarke started to get in the cab.  “Wait,” Bellamy said suddenly lurching forward. “It might help if you actually had my number.”

She smiled and gave a snort of laughter, “Yeah, maybe.”  She handed him her phone.  He quickly put his number in the phone, handed it back to her and gave her a quick peck before closing the car door.

 

...

 

The cab pulled up in front of her apartment.  She got out her wallet, but the driver told her that her boyfriend had already taken care of it with the card he had on file with the company.

Clarke shook her head. “Bellamy Blake,” she muttered under her breath.

After getting into her apartment, she took off her shoes, changed into her pajamas, and settled on the couch after making a cup of hot cocoa.  She grabbed her phone, opening up her contacts she scrolled to B, but found neither a number under Bellamy nor under Blake, Bellamy.  Confused, she scrolled through the rest of her contacts.  Then she spotted a name she had definitely not put into her contacts herself.  She pressed “call” on the contact “Man of Your Dreams.”  The phone rang once before someone picked up.

“Hello, Princess,” he greeted.

“Really, Bell? ‘Man of Your Dreams?’”

“Just stating the truth,” he teased.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, I can assume you’re home safe?” he asked.

“Yup.  You successfully called a cab who was not a serial killer.”

“Good to hear it,” He paused.  “So…”

“Yeah?”

“I know we said we’re giving this a go…” Clarke closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, her mind immediately going to the worst place.  “And I do, I really do.” She felt her shoulders sag in relief.  “…I just really don’t want Octavia to be right after all the crap she’s been giving me.  Is that so wrong?”

“If it is, call me an awful person because I am _so_ not vindicating Wells for making that dating profile.”

Bellamy chuckled.  “I figure our choice is to either go through with the murders we planned at dinner or just keep this on the down low for a while.”

“I think the second option might be less likely to land us in jail,” she joked.

After coming into agreement to keep their relationship to themselves, the two continued to talk well into the night, catching up on their lives in the past seven years and reminiscing about high school.  When Clarke finally went to bed, she fell asleep with a smile upon her face.


	3. This Isn't So Hard

Clarke woke up, shuffled into her kitchen, and started the coffee maker, just as she did every morning.  She had the day off and was seriously considering staying in pajamas all day.  Just as she was pouring her coffee, she heard her phone ring from the bedroom.  Rushing to get there in time, she didn’t look at the caller ID before answering.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Clarke,” a cheery voiced Wells greeted her.

“Devil spawn,” she returned. 

“Is that referring to me calling too early or the whole date thing last night.”

“Whichever you choose would be correct,” Clarke replied.

“So did the date not go well?” Wells asked tentatively.

Clarke wandered back to the kitchen to retrieve her coffee.  “No, it went decently enough.  It was nice to see where life had taken Bellamy and Octavia since high school,” she told him, making sure to throw in Octavia, so to not center around Bellamy. 

“Octavia?”

“His little sister, who ironically, was the one who made his account for the app.  She and I were both in the fencing and archery clubs at school.  Now she owns a coffee shop here in the city.  We should go check it out sometime.”

“Yeah, sure.  Was she there too?”  Wells asked.  Clarke could tell he was confused as to why she was talking about the younger Blake when she had been on a date with the elder one.  Clarke smiled, knowing her and Bellamy’s plan was working.

“No, Bellamy and I just talked about her quite a bit.”

“So no love connection?” Wells asked, sounding disappointed.

_Yes_ , Clarke answered in her mind.  “No,” she said aloud.

“Are you guys going to go out again?  Maybe you needed more than the first date,” he suggested.  “Or…”

“I swear to god, Wells, if you are about to say go out with someone else from that stupid dating app, I will drive all the way to your place and follow through with the threat I gave you last night.  Witnesses be damned.”

“Okay, okay.  I’ll drop the whole dating app thing,” he relented, knowing well that he had pushed it too far already.

“Good,” Clarke said, satisfied.

“But second date with Bellamy?”  Wells asked again.  He truly was insufferable sometimes.  She had always heard that part of the purpose of siblings was to annoy one another to the point of utter insanity; she just hadn’t thought it extended to friends who were so close you considered them a sibling.

“We said we might hang out again, sometime.  But just as friends.”  She figured she had best cover her bases, because sooner or later Wells was bound to notice her texting him or see them hanging out, but as long as her and Bellamy kept up the appearance of platonic friendship in front of Wells, all would be good.

Wells started to say something, but she was distracted by a small beep of her phone alerting her to a text message.  She pulled her phone away from her ear saying, “Hang on a second, Wells.”  She looked at the screen:

 

Man of Your Dreams  
Good morning, Princess =)  
9:35 pm

 

Clarke really needed to change that name in her phone.  “Hey Wells?”

“Yeah?” he answered.

“I gotta go.  That was an intern at the clinic texting me a question about the MCAT and I promised her I would help,” Clarke lied smoothly.

“You just want to get out of this conversation, don’t you?” Wells saw right through her.

“I really did just get a text,” Clarke gave a half truth.

“Okay, fine,” Wells told her with an airy voice.  “I’ll just question you more later.”

“And I’ll tell you the same exact thing:  we chatted about what we’ve been up to, talked about high school memories a little, and decided we would try to stay in touch, and maybe hang out as friends.”

“Sure, sure. I know there’s more to that story…Bye, Clarke.” 

“Bye, Wells,” she told him and hung up the phone. 

Curling up with her coffee and her phone on her couch, she began to compose a text to Bellamy.

 

* * *

 

 

Bellamy woke up Sunday morning with a smile on his face.  Had someone told him, even a week ago, that he would have had dinner with Clarke Griffin, the girl who had been both the bane and joy of his high school days, he would have laughed in their face.  But now, not only had they had dinner, but he had lived out one of his most common teenage fantasies:  he had kissed her; and it was better than he had ever imagined.

He immediately thought about talking to her again.  He knew that there was a supposed rule about waiting to call someone until three days after a date or something like that.  But A) that didn’t extend to texting, right? and B) dating rules were stupid.  He grabbed his phone.  After sending his message he was determined not to be one of those people waiting by the phone for a response, so he walks away to shower; it may or may not have been the quickest shower he’s ever taken.  As soon as he got out he checked his phone.

 

Princess  
Good morning to you, as well :)  
9:39 am

 

Did you sleep well?  
9:46 am

 

Mhmmm.  You?  
9:47 am

 

Definitely.  
9:47 am

 

So, what are your plans for today?  
9:48 am

 

I actually have the day off for  
once, so nothing.  
9:48 am

 

Why?  
9:48 am

 

Because I’m bored and I want to see you.  
9:48 am

 

It’s not even 10 in the morning, and  
you’re already bored? ;)  
9:49 am

 

Okay, it might be more of the second one…  
9:49 am

 

Haha.  I wouldn’t object to seeing you  
either.  
9:50 am

 

So, you wouldn’t object to me asking you  
to do something today?  
9:50 am

 

What did you have in mind?  
9:50 am

 

I don’t know, I just want to see you.  
9:50 am

 

Well, I was toying with the idea of  
going to the farmers’ market down  
on the riverfront.  
9:51 am

 

If you wouldn’t mind company…  
9:51 am

That’s why I mentioned it :)  
9:51 am

 

I could get ready and come pick  
you up.  
9:51 am

 

I can make us a nice dinner with the  
what we get.  
9:52 am

 

Sounds like a plan.  Send me your  
address and I’ll let you know when  
I’m on my way.  
9:52 am

 

Bellamy sent his address to Clarke and smiled happily. Sue him for wanting to see a gorgeous girl who was one of the few people he knew that kept him on his toes, even though he had literally just seen her yesterday.  They had seven years for which to make up. 

 

* * *

  

By eleven o’clock they were on the riverfront wandering the farmers’ market, trying to figure out what they wanted for dinner.  They were currently at a fruit booth and Clarke was taking her time to look through all the wares.  After examining almost all the fruit thoroughly, Clarke finally picked out some strawberries.  When she paid for them, she turned to Bellamy.  “I’ll make my famous cream-o-strawberry pie for dessert,” she told him.  Her eyes widened suddenly.  “That is if you do like strawberries?’ she phrased it as a question.

“I do, Princess.  No need to panic,” he chuckled.

She stuck her tongue out at him.  “Well, how was I supposed to know.  Anyway, now I’ve got my part of dinner planned and paid for; step up your game, Blake.”

He darted his arm out, snaking it around her waist and pulling her closer.  “Maybe I’m just enjoying time with my date,” he teased.

“You’ve got me all day,” she said with a smile, leaning into him.  But the next second she was dancing away, calling over her shoulder, “Now get your ass in gear!  I want to go for a walk along the water.” 

He chuckled catching up to her as she looked at a collection of vegetables.  He looked around at the other foods the market had to offer.  Placing a hand on the small of her back—he found himself craving any form of physical contact with her—he asked, “How would you feel about sundried tomato fettuccini with chicken?”

 “You saw the pasta booth, didn’t you?” she asked with a knowing look.

“How could I pass up homemade pasta?  It all looks so delicious.  Plus, I always get rave reviews on my sundried tomato fettuccine,” he told her, moving toward the pasta booth.

“I’ll catch up in a minute; there’s one thing I have to get before I forget.”

“Alright.  I’ll probably still be drooling over all the options.  How did I not know about this place?”

“They advertise it everywhere, so it truly is a mystery,” she teased.  “Be right back,” she reminded him before moving off in the other direction.

Bellamy was on his second round of looking through all the varieties of pasta when it was his turn to feel a pair of hands snake around from behind.  He turned and slid his arm around Clarke’s back, guiding her alongside him.  “Hi there,” she said smiling. 

He leaned down for a chaste kiss.  “Hi yourself.  What did you get?” he asked, gesturing to the bag that was hooked around her elbow.

“Some wine for tonight.  I got it from one of my favorite booths.  And Monty threw in some of his moonshine when his mom wasn’t looking,” Clarke added with a laugh.

“Monty?” Bellamy questioned.  “As in Monty Green?”

“Yeah?”  Clarke asked in confusion.  “Do you know him?”

“He’s actually one of my sister’s good friends,” he told her with a laugh.  “I didn’t know he still helped his mom out with the farm…or that they had a vineyard.”

“The vineyard is technically their neighbors’, but the couple go to a different market on Sundays, so the Greens offered to help them sell here too, for which I am eternally grateful.  You haven’t properly lived until you’ve tried their red fusion.”

“I’ll have to yell at Monty for only ever bringing his moonshine,” Bellamy considered.  He looked back to the table in front of him.  “How do you feel about spinach and garlic noodles?  Too much with sundried tomatoes?”

“You’re the chef; you tell me,” Clarke teased.  “I’ll eat just about whatever you put in front of me.”

“So, liver and cow’s tongue?”  he asked, pinching her side slightly. 

She squirmed closer into his side and made a disgusted face. “I said ‘ _just about_ ’.”

Bellamy let out a full-hearted laugh, pulling her closer into his side if that was even possible.  To the woman behind the table he said, “Can I have a some of the spinach and garlic?”

“Of course,” she said with a smile.  “Date night?”

Clarke smiled and nodded. 

“Good.  Because you two make the cutest couple,” the woman told them, taking Bellamy’s money and handing over a bag of noodles.  “Enjoy!”

“We will,” Clarke called happily as they walked away, each having an arm around the other’s waist.

They made their way to several other booths where Bellamy picked up fresh ingredients for dinner and Clarke gathered some fruits and vegetables for the week.  After they had everything they wanted, they put their bags in the car and made their way towards the path along the riverfront.  Bellamy happily took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers.  They chatted amicably about this and that, bringing up stories from their high school days or things that had happened in the seven intervening years since they had last talked. 

Bellamy couldn’t remember the last time he had had such a good time with a woman just talking.  If he was to be honest, much of his interactions with women involved more physical and less verbal communication.  Not that he wasn’t loving the physical communication he was having with Clarke, the quiet way she would nudge into his shoulder with hers when he teased her or the way his thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. 

He felt her tug him toward the railing on which she promptly leaned, looking outward.  He didn’t waste a second before slipping his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder to take in the view.  They stood there in comfortable silence.  But it was quickly ruined by his phone beginning to blare, announcing a phone call.  He hurriedly took it out and was about to dismiss the call when he saw it was Octavia.

“It’s Octavia,” he told Clarke.  “She’ll just keep calling until I answer, do you mind?”

“Not at all,” she said as she turned her head, and smiled.

“Hey, O,” he answered the phone.  He leaned on the railing next to Clarke who then took his hand that wasn’t holding the phone and began to play with his fingers and size up her considerably smaller hand against his.  He smiled at her, thinking, hoping, maybe she had the same desire to be in physical contact with him as he did with her.

“Hi, big brother,” Octavia sang in a way that Bellamy instantly knew she had something particular in his mind, something that involved him and that she knew he wasn’t going to be too keen on.

“What is it, O?” he asked, the exasperated older brother evident in his voice.

“How was your date?” she inquired in the same sing-song voice.

“Seriously?  You set me up with Clarke?”  He turned to see the girl whose name he had just mentioned smile mischievously and crinkle her nose which he now had the sudden urge to kiss.

“Technically it was the dating app that matched you up.  I just helped it along by messaging her,” Octavia told him; he could hear her smirking.  “Plus, she’s the one who said yes and suggested you meet up.”

“Actually, her friend made her an account without her knowledge and set up the date.  She didn’t know about it or me until she was literally in the restaurant…and I’m pretty sure she told her friend I was an ass…” he said directing the last part at Clarke.  She bit her lip, shrugged her shoulders, and muttered an apology that definitely had a question mark at the end.

Octavia’s barking laughter erupted in his ear.  “I wish I could have witnessed that.  But for real, did she stay for the dinner?  Did you have a good time?  Are you going to see her again?”  she bombarded him with questions.

“Yes, she stayed for dinner.  Yes, we had a good time.  And yes, I’m going to see her again.”  This time he did kiss her nose when she crinkled it.  “But only as friends,” he added sternly to his sister.

Octavia groaned, “Bellamy!  The whole point of you going on this date was for you to get a girlfriend.  Not another ‘friend’,” she said, placing air quotes around “friend” the way she did whenever she threw his trail of one night stands back in his face; when she was younger he had always just said he was having a sleepover with his friend.  Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure she had ever fallen for that line.

“Clarke is not a ‘friend’.” Bellamy told his sister emphasizing the air quotes.  “We enjoyed talking and catching up; we’re going to be friends like I’m friends with Raven and Harper.”

“A) You’ve had sex with both of them before, and B) they’re dating two of your best friends, so you wouldn’t be able to keep up your ‘friend’-ship with them even if you wanted.”

“I have not had sex with Clarke Griffin,” he cried, frustrated at his sister’s suggestion.  Not that he didn’t _want_ to have sex with Clarke; nope that was definitely on the top of the list of things he wanted to do, but he hadn’t had sex with her.

As if reading his mind, Clarke rose on her tip-toes.  “Yet,” she whispered in his ear, causing an unmanly shiver to run down his spine.  As she pulled back, she gave him a coy smile and it took all his willpower not to chase those lips with a ravenous kiss.

His sister’s voice grounded him to the present.  “Fine,” she still sounded skeptical. “I believe you.”  She paused and then heaved a big sigh as if her pride was deflating, “Seriously, Bell?  Only friends?” she sounded so disappointed.  “I really thought I hit it on the head with this one.  You could have cut the sexual tension with a knife in high school; I had thought you guys would realize the potential between you two now that you’re older, and, and…I don’t know.”

Bellamy was run over with guilt for hiding the truth from Octavia.  He was about to break down and tell her when he imagined the response he would get if he told her she had been right. _That_ was enough to harden his resolve to keep his relationship with Clarke on the down low for a while longer.  “Sorry, O, we can’t be right all the time,” he told her.  “Well, at least not all of us can.” He may have been teasing his sister, but it was Clarke who smacked him on the arm for his cockiness.

“Ass,” his sister told him, already bouncing back from the dejected tone she had a second ago.  “Alrighty then, I’ve got to go.  Charlotte is about to burn another plate of pastries.”

“Bye, O.  Don’t let your new employees burn down your shop.”

“Bye, Bell.”

Right after he hung up his phone and returned it to his pocket a curious Clarke asked, “What was that last thing she was saying?”

“That an employee was about to burn a plate of pastries?” Bellamy supplied.

“No, before that.  When you gave her one of your insufferably smug replies.”

“Oh,” Bellamy said, realizing what she was referring to, and unsure of whether he wanted to tell her.  “She was just really disappointed we were only friends,” he glazed over the reference to high school.

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to read his mind for the whole truth.  Bellamy did his best to keep his face passive.  Now it was Clarke’s turn to have her phone go off, only this time was a simple bing-bing of a message. 

Clarke got out her phone.  “It’s your sister,” she said incredulously.  Now Bellamy’s interest truly was peaked.  Clarke opened the message that had been sent via Facebook.  Bellamy read over her shoulder:

 

12:21 PM

Hey Clarke!  Long time no talk!  
I hear you went on a date with my brother!

 

 

“That little sneak!” Bellamy exclaimed.  “Can’t get anything out of me, so she goes to you!”

Clarke laughed at his reaction.  “Here let’s have a small chat with her; make sure she gets the message this time.”

Leading Clarke to a bench a little way away, he spoke, “Just remember to act like you think she hasn’t talked to me about the date already.  Repeat information is good.”

“What do you think this is?  A spy movie?  Are we on a secret mission?”  Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he responded in mock seriousness.  “It has now officially been named Operation… _Celara Affinitas_.”

“And it’s so secretive, no one has any idea what you just said,” Clarke said giving him a dry look.

“It’s Latin.  It basically means hidden relationship.”

“Nerd,” Clarke coughed.  Bellamy returned the look she had given him a second ago.  “Anyway, Octavia!”  The two sat down on the bench and plotted together throughout the conversation with his sister.

 

12:25 PM

I hear you’re the one who set it up.

 

Maybe…

 

Just so you know.  It wasn’t me that you  
were talking to online.  My friend, Wells,  
made my account and set up the date.

 

That’s what Bell said when I  
talked to him.

 

Speaking of Bell, how’d the date go?

 

It went well.  It was great to catch up,  
see where you and him are now, and  
reminisce about high school.

 

I hear you opened a coffee shop?  
That’s fantastic!!!

 

Is it weird if I say I’m proud of you?

 

Haha.  I’ve gotten used to that from  
Bellamy.

 

Speaking of Bellamy, you guys going  
on a second date? ;)

 

No dates.  But we think we’re going  
to get together to hang out as friends.

 

Do you mean friends, as in *wink wink  
nudge nudge* “friends”…?

 

Oh, god no!

 

No.

 

No no no.

 

No.

 

“Isn’t that a little overkill?”  Bellamy asked slightly offended as he read over her shoulder as she sent message after message.

“Read back all that I just sent Octavia.”

“Oh, god no!  No.  No no no. No,” he complied with her request with a raised eyebrow.

“And that is also the answer to your question,” she told him with a playful smile.  Bellamy pouted.  She gave him a peck on the cheek.  “Do you honestly think I would have had that kind of relationship with you?  You would have gotten pretty much that same response that you read here had you even suggested that to me, albeit with quite a few more expletives, but you get the idea.”  The words may have been harsh, but her tone was kind.  Bellamy knew she wasn’t really the type of girl to sleep around; she cared too much about people and making a deeper connection with a single person or small group rather than a large crowd, always had.

“You do know that kind of relationship is the farthest thing from my mind right now, right?”  He asked, cupping her chin and bringing her eyes up to meet his.  He needed to make sure she understood where is mind was currently.

She smiled a radiant smile, leaned forward and kissed him gently, a soft brushing of their lips that conveyed more than words.  “I know,” she clarified just in case the kiss hadn’t covered it.  Clarke’s phone beeped again, notifying about Octavia’s most recent message.

 

Okay, well that cleared that up.

 

So, I know you just caught up with  
Bellamy.  But would we should  
totally hang out sometime.

 

Yes!  Definitely!  I was hoping to come  
around to try your coffee soon.

 

You should.  It’ll be on the house.  
friends’ benefit.  Number of years  
not a factor.

 

You’re too sweet, Octavia.  I’ll let  
you know when I have some free time  
this week.

 

Sounds good!  Looking forward to it!  
I’ll remind you that not all Blakes are  
assholes.

 

Haha.  That’s not easy to forget.

 

Talk to you later.

 

Yup yup yup.

 

“Not all Blakes are assholes?  What’s that supposed to mean?” Bellamy asked Clarke.

  She just shook her head sadly and got up from the bench.  “No, what’s that supposed to mean?!” he asked again rising from the bench as well.  She started running away from him, tossing looks over her shoulder.  He began the chase, both laughing happily.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke had just gotten off a long shift, working the graveyard from Tuesday night to Wednesday late morning.  She had told Octavia she would come to Grounders today when she got off work; she was never so glad Octavia owned a coffee shop and she would have caffeine to get her through the rest of the day.

A string of old-timey bells chimed as she walked through the doors.  She looked upon a quaint coffee shop full of eclectic signs and art, much of which featured dystopian views of towns, cities, and monuments overrun with trees.  There was a beat up sign over the coffee grounds that read “Mount Weather” and a handwritten “coffee” underneath.  There was a smattering of customers sipping their coffee or munching on baked goods seated around the non-matching tables. 

“Welcome to Grounders,” a cheerful voice greeted her from behind the register.  The brown haired boy looked to be a little younger than Clarke.  She tried not to judge him too harshly for the random goggles hanging around his neck.

“Hi, is Octavia here?”  Clarke asked tentatively.  “I told her I’d be stopping by.”

“Hold on one second,” the boy told her.  He turned slightly in order to shout over his shoulder.  “Octavia!  There’s a blonde girl here to see you!” He turned back and smiled at Clarke, who had to stop herself from laughing.  That certainly was one way to get your boss’ attention.

Within seconds, Octavia came sweeping out of the back of the shop, her long straight brown hair flowing, her carefree personality shining.  Though Clarke remembered just how many people underestimated this Beauty both in and out of the fencing or archery competition; Octavia was one of the strongest people Clarke knew and she had the skill, verbal and physical, to back up that claim.  “Clarke!” Octavia shouted wrapping her into a bear-like hug. 

Clarke returned the hug with a laugh.  “Long time no see.  This place looks amazing!”

“Thanks,” Octavia said, releasing her.  “But you haven’t even tried the coffee yet.”  She turned to the boy behind the counter.  “Two Mount Weather coffees, Jasper.”

“You’ve got it, boss,” he responded and immediately began filling two mugs with the house brew.  Once filled, he handed the mugs over the counter.  Clarke and Octavia each grabbed one and proceeded to add sugar and cream before finding a table.

“So, Clarke, what have you been up to since high school?” Octavia asked before adding, “God, I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“You and me both,” she said with wistful remembrance.  “After high school I went to university and med school and then I applied for jobs everywhere that _wasn’t_ Arkadia.”  The two girls shared a laugh over that comment.  “And I ended up at a free clinic in TonDC—the one over of 31 st.  I just felt like I could do a lot of good at a free clinic.  So, yeah, I’ve been here a little less than a year.  Haven’t really done anything exciting except school.” 

“Yeah, I hated school.  Even university, but I couldn’t let Bell down, so I just applied myself so I could get out of there as fast as I could.  Finished in three years with my B.A. in business and marketing.  Then because I needed to get out of Arkadia—seriously, what is it about that place?—I decided to move to TonDC and try to open my own coffee shop because who doesn’t love coffee?  And of course, Bellamy being Bellamy, a.k.a. the overprotective, never-let-you-out-of-my-sight brother that he is, he came with me and found a job out here too.  Not that I don’t love him to death and wouldn’t have missed him terribly if he hadn’t come.  But if I hadn’t put my foot down, I swear we would still be living in the same apartment together.” It seemed that Octavia hadn’t changed much since Clarke had last seen her.  She was still full of life and not afraid of trying something new, even at the great risk of failure; she loved her brother, but also couldn’t stand his consistent hovering.

The two girls chatted happily and Octavia officially introduced Clarke to the boy behind the counter:  Jasper Jordan.  Octavia was in the process of convincing Clarke to come to her place a week from Friday when she was hosting a big party/get together when the door chimed.  Clarke had her back turned toward the door, but turned toward the register when she recognized the deep voice that greeted Jasper and ordered a coffee.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she greeted Bellamy.  Her heart drumming out a gleeful rhythm at the sight of him.

“Bellamy!” Octavia cried cheerfully a beat after.

Bellamy looked surprised to see Clarke, but quickly recovered.  “Octavia.  Princess,” he greeted them with a head nod.  “Better make that three coffees, Jasper.”

“Just two,” Octavia interrupted, getting up from her seat.  “As much as I loved catching up with you, Clarke, I really should be getting back to work.  Bellamy will keep you company for a while though, right Bell?”

Bellamy’s eyes darted to Clarke.  “Um, yeah,” he agreed.

“Great!” Octavia practically sung.  “And you’ll come next Friday?” she addressed Clarke.  “Please?  I’ll text you my address.”

“I’m going to get texts every day until I agree to come, aren’t I?”  Clarke asked.

“Yup.  Just give in now; it’ll be better for your mental health in the long run,” Octavia returned.

Clarke recalled the times she had been in similar situations with the younger Blake regarding club and other high school social events.  No matter how adamant about not going she was at the start, Octavia had somehow always worn her down.  She sighed, “Alright.  Text me your address.”

“Yay!” Octavia grabbed her into a hug.  “Ask Bell or Jasper, they’ll tell you it’s worth it.  We all have a great time!  I’ll talk to you soon.”  And with that she was off, literally humming on her way to the back of the shop.

Clarke got out of her seat to collect the second coffee mug Jasper had poured for her and Bellamy.  She walked over to the sugar and cream; Bellamy followed, watching as she added sugar after sugar.

“Exactly how many sugars are you putting in that coffee?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Four.  How many are you putting in?”

“None.  Black coffee, the way it’s meant to be drunk.”

“So, you like it bitter to match your personality?” she goaded with a twinkle in her eye.  “I like it sweet so it matches mine.”

“Ha!” he scoffed.  “Someone has delusions of themselves.”

“I am a kind, caring, and _sweet_ person, Bellamy Blake.  No one would tell you differently.”

“Clearly no one has ever had a real conversation with you.  You literally insulted me and called yourself sweet in the same breath.” 

Jasper watched them warily from behind the counter as their voices got a little louder and their tones a hint harsher as they continued back and forth about coffee preferences and personalities.  And while to the onlooker may have been concerned, both participants noted the teasing twitch of the other’s lips that threated to break into a smile and knew that the words lack true malice.

“Agree to disagree?”  Bellamy finally asked.

“Fine.  But we both know I’m right,” Clarke taunted, walking toward the table she and Octavia had previously occupied.

He growled and followed her. “That isn’t agreeing to disagree.”

She ignored him as they both took their seat across from each other.  “So, what brought you here today?”

“My sister insisted I come meet her at the coffee shop around 12:30. She wouldn’t give me a specific reason and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“And then she just runs off to the back room as soon as you get here?” Clarke paused, her brain supplying one explanation that would not only answer her question, but give further meaning behind Octavia’s singing tone and happy humming.  “You don’t think she’s still trying to set us up, do you?” she asked Bellamy, lowering her voice.

He shrugged.  “It’s Octavia.  How am I supposed to know?”

“You practically raised her!”

“Valid point, but that still doesn’t mean I know what’s going on in her head.”

“She totally is, you know that.”

“Hey, at least it means she fell for our ‘just friends’ claim.”

“True,” Clarke admitted.

“God, I want to kiss you so bad right now,” Bellamy practically groaned.

Clarke laughed at his sudden confession.  “If I didn’t think Jasper would tell Octavia, I’d say go for it.  But as it stands, you’ll just have to deal,” she said as she grazed her foot along his calf.

He let out another quiet moan.  “You’re going to be the death of me one of these days.”

 

* * *

 

 

Octavia came out of the back room after she had completed some much needed paperwork.  “Hey Jasper,” she said quietly, conspiratorially.

“Yeah?” he asked in the same tone, but with a confused expression.

“What have they been up to?” she asked gesturing to Bellamy and Clarke who were sitting across from each other chatting about one thing or another.

“They got into a rather loud argument about sugar in coffee…I think it scared one of the other customers.”  Octavia gave him a hard look.  “Okay, it scared me a little.  I mean, I already knew Bellamy could be a little menacing when he wants, but she just got right up in his face about something as small as coffee and sugar.  No one really does that with him.”

She let out a small laugh.  “No one really does that with her either.  But it means I was right:  things haven’t changed.  And if things haven’t changed—or even progressed to friendly, not just civil, conversations being possible,” she mused looked at them eying each other as they sipped their coffees, “then, they’re still perfect for each other.”

Jasper gave her a skeptical look.  “You did hear me saying they were arguing, almost shouting, over how she takes her coffee, right?”

“It’s all part of the Bellamy-Clarke relationship.  You will learn, Young Grasshopper.  You will learn.”

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke was running her fingers through her hair as she and Bellamy stood outside Octavia’s apartment.  “Does my hair look okay?  Not too messy?”

Bellamy tucked a stray piece behind her ear.  “If you’re asking if you have crazy sex hair…” he gave her a cocky grin.

“Well, _someone_ told me we didn’t have to be here until 8:00-8:30 and that we had plenty of time.  And _someone_ felt the need to undo all the work I put into my hair after he got to my apartment.”  She sighed and began pulling it back into a loose French braid.

“A) you like your hair pulled, don’t even try to deny it” she made a face at him, but he knew he spoke the truth. “B) I like the messy, crazy sex hair look, especially on you,” she stuck her tongue out at him, he just returned it with his smirk.  “And C) Octavia changed the time to 7:00 today _;_ how I was supposed to know?”

“You could check the Facebook event page,” Clarke retorted.

“So could you,” he returned.  He paused, a problem in keeping their cover as “just friends” arising in his mind, “How are we playing the arriving and leaving together thing?”

 Clarke gave him a teasing smile, “So you’re just assuming you’re coming home with me, are you?”

“My bike is at your place, so you don’t really have a choice,” he wrapped his arms around her lower back and held her into him looking down into her bright blue eyes.  “Then again, I do plan on following you up to your apartment and sleeping in your bed; it’s so much comfier than mine, not to mention you’re more fun to cuddle with than a pillow.”

She shook her head at him.  “You’re incorrigible.  Anyway, here’s the plan,” she stopped dramatically, before continuing in a tone that made it seem as though the answer to his question was completely obvious.  “I needed an ally who I already knew at the party, so we decided to drive together.”

“Well, that’s simple enough.”

“And true,” she added.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, taking a deep breath. 

He leaned down and gave her a short, but passionate kiss.  “Because it’s the last time I’ll be able to do that until we leave,” he told her, letting her go, and pushed open the door without knocking. The pair followed the sound of voices until they saw a large group of people lounging around the various pieces of furniture in the living room.

“Bellamy!” Octavia yelled, jumping up from where she was seated and rushing to give her brother a hug.  “And Clarke!” her eyes lit up and she pulled the blonde woman in for a hug as well.  Drawing back she asked, “Did you guys come together?” Bellamy could sense the hope in his sister’s voice, the final confirmation that Octavia was indeed trying to get Bellamy and Clarke together despite both their insistence that they were just friends…if only she knew.

“Yup,” Clarke quipped, surprisingly casual.  “I wanted a guarantee that I would know at least one friendly face aside from the host,” she annunciated with a smile for Octavia, “so we carpooled.  Although _someone_ didn’t tell me you changed the time, hence the lateness.”  Clarke gave him a glare.

“Yeah, yeah, Princess.  We had this argument twice already.  I didn’t know she changed the time any more than you did,” Bellamy in turn gave her an aggravated look, and it wasn’t even acting.

Octavia smiled at the both of them.  “Clarke let me introduce you to everyone,” she said and called the attention of everyone else in the room.  “Everyone this is Clarke.  She went to high school with me and Bell and just recently got in touch again.  Clarke, you remember Jasper from the coffee shop? And there’s Monty next to him.”

“Hey, I know Clarke!” Monty said excitedly.  “She comes to the farmers’ market out on the riverfront every Sunday.”

“You work at the farmers’ market?” Octavia asked.

“Yeah, I still help out my mom sometimes,” Monty answered.

Octavia shrugged and continued with the introductions, “Then there’s Harper and Maya (Monty and Jasper’s girlfriends) and Nathan—or Miller, he’ll answer to either—and John Murphy and his girlfriend—”

“Raven?” Clarke asked cutting off Octavia, leaning closer as if to inspect the Latina.

“Cute Blonde?”  Raven responded, sounding equally incredulous.

“Do you two know each other?”  Bellamy asked looking back and forth between the two women.

Clarke started laughing and Raven soon joined in.  “You could say that,” Clarke finally managed to say.  Bellamy was now thoroughly confused, but then again was there not that annoying Disney song “It’s a Small World After All”?

Settling to a Cheshire Cat-like grin, Raven began telling the story of how she and Clarke had become acquainted.  “So, you remember the time in Uni I decided to surprise my boyfriend, and literally drove all night after finals so I could spend some time with him?”

“Wasn’t that when—” Monty started to ask before Raven shushed him.

“Let me tell my story…Anyway, I had gotten to Finn’s apartment and he was excited to see me, but acting a little strange.  At first I just put it down to him being flustered because he wasn’t expecting me and hadn’t prepared anything for my arrival.  But then after a day or two I realized he was jumping every time his phone went off.  So one day when he was in the shower, I grabbed his phone.  Scrolling through his messages and calls, a certain contact kept showing up.”  She gestured to Clarke.  “Cute Blonde.”

“Seriously?  I’m still a little upset I didn’t even have a proper name in his phone.” Clarke said, sounding slightly offended, but laughter still filled her voice.  “Anyway, _I_ had met Finn at a bar one of the rare nights I went out—Wells, my best friend, convinced me to go out while he was visiting; I indulged him just to prove that I can in fact be fun.  And while he was dancing with some girl, I was sitting miserably by myself when this dashing, charming young man came up to me and started chatting.”  Clarke’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she described Finn.  “So, I thought we hit it off pretty well.  And I agreed to go on a date with him, and then a second, and a third.  I really thought it was going to go somewhere when I got a phone call from him, that wasn’t actually him…”

Raven picked up the story.  “I will admit that my temper may have gotten away from me for a little bit on that phone call…” nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, knowing full well that Raven had a short fuse more often than not.  “But somehow, Cute Blonde calmed me down and apologized profusely, explaining that she didn’t know I existed and that she definitely would not have gone out with him if she had.  And thus we came up with a plan.”

Clarke took over, “I called up Finn and begged him to go out to dinner with me to celebrate getting an A on the Organic Chemistry test I had been cramming for.  He quickly said yes and thus the plan was in motion.  I told him I would meet him at the restaurant; I was sitting at the table when he got there and soon after he sat down, I began gushing about how I had just run into a friend.  I told him she was in the bathroom, but would be back shortly to meet him.  He seemed to have no problem with it, until I said ‘look, there she is,’ and he saw Raven storming toward the table…”

The story was back to Raven.  “So yes, there may or may not have been some swearing and there may or may not have been some throwing of food and drink, but there _definitely_ was a good solid punch to the face.  And that is how I broke up with Finn, and how I met Cute Blonde, more commonly known as Clarke.”

“Did you guys rehearse that or something?” Jasper questioned.  “Because I would definitely come to your story hour at the library.”

“No,” Clarke told him with yet another laugh bubbling up.  “But I do have to say that went really smoothly.” She quirked an eyebrow.

“Have you heard from him since that night?”  Raven asked her.

Clarke face formed a look of disgust.  “He actually tried to convince me to keep dating him.  Took three months of me refusing to acknowledge him before he finally took the hint.”

“Funny,” Raven mused. “He left me alone for three months before he tried to get back with me.”

Clarke frowned. “I’d choose you first,” she told the brunette.

“Of course,” Raven smiled. “That’s because I’m awesome!”

Murphy rolled his eyes.  Unfortunately for him, Raven saw and proceeded to punch him in the gut. 

Clarke leaned into Bellamy and quietly whispered, “I thought Octavia just said that she was his girlfriend…”

Bellamy chuckled, “Yeah, it’s a mystery to all of us how they manage to stay together.”

Clarke smiled up at him.  “Sit, sit,” Octavia insisted, practically pushing them into the love seat that was really just an overgrown armchair.  As they followed Octavia’s instructions, it became blatantly obvious that they wouldn’t be able to sit there without their thighs and shoulders pressing against the other’s.  It wasn’t that Bellamy minded, it just meant that they would definitely have to play up the platonic friendship a bit.

Before he could properly think about how, Clarke acted.  She pushed against him, trying to create a little space in between them, “Geez, Bellamy, could you take up any more space?”

“If you insist, Princess,” he responded with a gleam in his eye, spreading out further and crushing her into the armrest.

“You’re impossible.  Seriously, Octavia, you have my utter respect for having to deal with _this_ ,” she gestured to Bellamy her tone full of annoyance, “your entire life.”

“Trust me,” Octavia returned, “It wasn’t easy.  But you learn to love him anyway.”

Clarke heaved an exaggerated sigh and pushed him back to his side of the seat.  Bellamy went unwilling, casting a conspiratorial smirk at her.

“So, what’s the plan, Stan?” Jasper asked.  “Everyone here?”

“Yeah, everyone who could make it,” Octavia told him.  “I was thinking we could watch a movie or board games or video games or something.”

“And liquor, of course,” piped Monty.

“Of course,” Octavia agreed.

“Catch Phrase!” Jasper exclaimed excitedly. “Catch Phrase, Catch Phrase, Catch Phrase,” he began chanting.

Maya shook her head at her childish boyfriend, but a loving smile still graced her features.  “I think we’ll have to play at least one round if we want to get any peace for the rest of the night,” she suggested.

The group nodded their agreement and Octavia went to go get the game.  “Teams look like me, Bell, Maya, Monty, and Murphy versus Miller, Clarke, Jasper, Harper, and Raven.  Sound good?”  Octavia asked settling into her spot to close the circle.

“Both Blakes on the same team?” Raven asked.  “That hardly seems fair.”

Octavia harrumphed at her friend, “I never get to be on Bell’s team,” she pouted.  “If you all think it is so bad, next round we’ll switch it up.”

“Okay, fine,” Raven grumbled. 

The game started with Octavia describing Disneyland as “That place where all those Superbowl players say they’re going to go…where you can meet Mickey and all his friends…”

She tossed the game to Miller who started clicking through his options, “Shit, shit, shit…Aha, the board game where someone is murdered—”

“1313 Deadend Drive!  Mafia!” shouted Jasper.

“No. And No.  Coronel Mustard, Mrs. Peacock…” Miller continued.

“Clue!” yelled Raven.

Miller tossed the game at Bellamy who scrambled to right it.  He scrolled through the words until he found one he could describe.  “The founders of Rome!  They’re twins! Raised by a wolf!”  Everyone on his team gave him blank looks.

“Leave off the history, Blake; none of us know,” Murphy told him blatantly as the beeping quickened.

Bellamy growled his frustration, and began to scroll.  “Who the fuck?” he questioned as the final buzzer went off.

“Romulus and Remus?” Clarke guessed quietly from his side.  He turned to look at her, surprise in his eyes.  “The one that you were describing,” she supplied thinking he hadn’t realized what she was talking about.

“I’m impressed, Princess,” he told her.

“Well, I do occasionally listen to your nerd rants,” she teased him.

“Any idea who this is?  I don’t think I’ve ever even seen this name before.” he showed her the name he didn’t recognize in the least.

She looked at it and then back at him, her face marked by unamused anger.  “I’m disowning you.  Nope, not even friends anymore.”

“Who is it?”  Harper asked.

“Edvard Munch?” Bellamy told them in a questioning tone.  In return he got a room full of blank looks, except Maya who looked like she was trailing an idea on the tip of her tongue.

“Seriously?” Clarke cried exasperatedly.  “Edvard Munch.  ‘The Scream.’  Please tell me you at least know about the painting ‘The Scream.’ 1893? Expressionism?  One a bridge, the main figure holding his face, screaming.”  Clarke demonstrated the pose, causing a few more head nods to Maya’s excited “Yes!” as soon as Clarke had said “The Scream.”  Clarke shook her head.  “You’re all hopeless.”

“You, Maya, and my boyfriend should hang out sometime,” Octavia said.  “You guys can all nerd out about art together.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that, since the rest of you are uncultured swine,” Clarke said with a laugh.

“Ouch.  That hurt, Princess,” Bellamy said, holding his hand to his chest in mock pain.

“You’ll get over it,” she told him.  “Let’s start again!”

And so they did, this round made it all the way back to Octavia who excitedly looked directly at Bellamy and shouted, “The name you call Clarke!”

“Princess,” he answered without a second’s pause, subtly squeezing her shoulder from where his arm hung across the back of the loveseat.

Octavia tossed the game into Miller’s lap where it immediately made its final buzz.

“Why _do_ you call her ‘princess’?” Monty questioned.

“Well,” Bellamy said, turning a smile onto the girl sitting snuggly against his left side. “It dates back to pretty much the first time I met her in high school.  What was it? Summer before your freshman year?”

Clarke pursed her lips and nodded.  Then rolled her eyes and shook her head, likely remembering their first encounter as well.

“Her dad was dropping her off at soccer camp, and she indeed looked the part of the little lost freshman after his car pulled away.  Coach had told us to make sure everyone felt welcome, so I went over to greet her as she started putting on her gear.  It was then that I noticed her drawstring bag said, ‘Forget glass slippers, this princess wears cleats.’  And thus the nickname was born.”

“Nu-uh.” Clarke shook her head.  “You’re not stopping the story there.  That makes you seem nice and friendly.  Here’s what it really looked like:  my dad dropped me off at my first day of soccer camp at my new high school at which I knew no one—I had gone to private school before my parents decided that I needed to get to know different people my age, aka my mom had decided to run for local office and thought it would look better if her only daughter didn’t go to an elite prep academy.  Anyway, I notice the coach yelling at a bunch of rambunctious boys and tells them to stop goofing around and make themselves useful by either setting up the goals or getting introductions and warm-up started.  I’ll admit to being a little late because my dad had been up working on a new design for something at work, so I was a little behind everyone with getting on my shin-guards and cleats.  I was tying the last of my shoe when a particularly obnoxious boy yells, ‘I know you’re a princess, but that doesn’t mean we’ve got all day to wait on you.’  For the rest of camp, he would never call me by my name, only Princess.”

Bellamy immediately retaliated.  “You’re not so innocent in that exchange either, Princess,” he said, annunciating the last word. 

“Oh, really?  What’d I do?”

“After I _kindly_ waited for you to do some cadence drills for warm up, you purposefully and deliberately kicked the ball right at my crotch.”

The group burst out laughing, Octavia loudest of all.  “I never heard that part of the story,” she managed between laughs.

Clarke had a tight smile, trying to suppress her own laughter.  “I had told you repeatedly to not call me princess, and you didn’t listen; I had to resort to more than words to emphasize my point.”

“I was out for half of practice that day!”

“Should have worn a cup,” Clarke retorted. “Not that I succeeded in my objective to get you to stop anyway,” she added wistfully.

“That you did not, Princess,” Bellamy teased with a cocky grin.

In reply she just scrunched up her face and harrumphed.

The rest of the evening was spent in good fun. They joked and played several round of Catch Phrase before moving on to Scrabble, at which he kicked everyone’s ass, though Clarke gave him a good run for his money, and then Cards Against Humanity.  Bellamy couldn’t help but smile at the fact Clarke fit seamlessly into the group despite her initial worries.  Before long, the clock was striking midnight.

“Well, better get the princess home before she turns back into a pumpkin,” he said, rising to his feet and extending a hand to Clarke.  She used it to help herself to her feet and then immediately dropped it.  Had he not known they were keeping it platonic in front of others, he would have been upset; even despite the fact he knew it was necessary, he was slightly disappointed.

“She didn’t turn into a pumpkin, her carriage did,” Clarke corrected him.

“Well, your carriage is our ride home, so I don’t want that to turn into a pumpkin either,” he retorted.

Clarke shook her head in amused annoyance.  “It was nice meeting you all, and seeing you again, Raven.  Thanks for inviting me, Octavia.”

A chorus of “Nice to meet you, too” followed her words.  Bellamy voiced his own good-byes and soon they were out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Jasper walked up to Octavia as Bellamy and Clarke closed the door behind them.  “I see it now.  I see it and I ship it and it _needs_ to happen.”

Octavia looked at him for a second confused, but then she caught on remembering the conversation they had when Jasper had first seen Clarke and Bellamy together.

“By the way,” Jasper added.  “I have named this ship Bellarke.”

“The Young Grasshopper has seen the truth and learned,” Octavia said keeping a straight face for all of one second before she burst into laughter.

 

* * *

 

 

Sunday morning Clarke received a text:

 

Man of Your Dreams  
I know we had plans to go to the farmers’  
market, like the last two weeks, but one of  
the professors at work just asked if I could  
take over his study session tonight.  
10:05 am

 

He said his daughter is really sick and he  
doesn’t want to leave her alone tonight.  
10:05 am

 

It’s not until 5:30, but I have to prepare  
because it’s not a class I’m currently teaching.  
10:05 am

 

I’m really sorry, Princess.  I’ll make it up  
to you somehow.  Promise.  
10:06 am

 

Don’t worry about it, Bell.  This  
isn’t the first time one of us has  
had work come in the way.  
10:10 am

 

It’s usually me cancelling on you  
because I got called in.  
10:10 am

 

I know.  But the farmers’ market and dinner  
has kind of become our tradition.  
10:11 am

 

We can miss a Sunday every once  
in a while.  
10:11 am

 

Clarke paused and thought about what she had just wrote.  She had been going out with Bellamy for just over two weeks and they already saw something as a tradition, one that she saw them continuing for a long time.  _Woah there, don’t get ahead of yourself, Griffin_ , she reminded herself.

After thoroughly convincing Bellamy that it was perfectly okay for him to cancel on her, she made a decision that involved limited cancelling of dinner.  Only she didn’t let him in on the plan. Clarke went to the farmers’ market on her own and gathered all the fresh ingredients should would need to make her favorite four cheese pasta bake and zucchini side.  When she got home, she started cooking and was finished with time to spare which resulted in dessert.  She broke out her best Tupperware and packed away some of the pasta bake in one, zucchini in another, and the peanut butter pretzel truffles she had finally got around to trying her hand at into a third. 

She then made her way to TonDC Community College and looked up where the Classics offices were, assuming the study group would be in the same building. Upon entering the building, she was happy to see several signs written in a familiar writing that directed people for the study session to got to lecture hall G19.  She found her way there and quietly slipped in the back, hoping she didn’t draw attention to herself.  She watched as Bellamy led an active Jeopardy-like game, quizzing students on Latin grammar and translation.

She found herself smiling simply watching Bellamy in front of the students.  She could see how passionate he was about not only the subject, but also teaching itself; he was animated and a smile was spread across his face, one that would get wider whenever a kid would light up as he or she finally understood something or made a correct translation.

Clarke noticed a stack of papers sitting on the desk next to hers.  She reached out and taking one, saw that it was a handful of sentence to help with translation.  _I haven’t done this in forever, but let’s give this a try_ , she told herself and began translating to the best of her abilities.  Her three years of Latin in undergrad somewhat coming back to her as she stared at the sentences.  She was suddenly very happy with her previous decision that Latin would help her better understand medical jargon.

Before she knew it, Bellamy was dismissing the students, telling them he’d done all he could to prepare them for their exam tomorrow and to just relax and try not to stress too much.  He went to sit at the desk at the front of the room and was writing notes on a sheet of paper as all the students filed out of the room.  After all the students were gone, she took the paper on which she had written her translations and slowly walked up to the desk.  Bellamy still hadn’t moved or looked up so she put on her most innocent voice.  Sliding the paper onto the desk, she quietly asked, “Excuse me, Professor Blake, but could you go over these translations with me one more time?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said writing down a final word.  Then he looked up to see who was talking to him; his face lit up.  “Princess!” he smiled.

“Hi,” she said, suddenly shy over the fact she had surprised him; a small part of her wondering if it had indeed been a good idea.

Bellamy quickly stood up and made his way around the desk.  “What are you doing here?”

“I really wanted to see you,” she confessed, still smiling slyly.

“But you have an early day tomorrow; I thought we were just going to grabbed dinner tomorrow.”

“Oh, we can still do that.  I just wanted to cook for you for a change and kind of keep up our farmers’ market dinner tradition, even if it was only one of us who made the trip.” 

He hummed his agreement and held her around her waist, not yet moving in for a kiss, but Clarke could definitely read his intentions in his eyes. “What did you make?”

“Four cheese pasta bake with chicken, garlic lemon and parmesan oven-roasted zucchini, and then some peanut butter pretzel truffles for dessert,” she answered.

“And what if I had something else in mind for dessert?” he asked, not even the least bit embarrassed by his blatant innuendo. 

“I’ve never had anything against two desserts,” she returned, mirroring the look in his eyes with her own.

It was then that he finally acted upon the kiss she had seen in his eyes moments before.  His lips aligned with hers and he started off slow and gentle before licking her lip in askance of deepening the kiss.  She parted her lips and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.  He finally pulled away when they were both breathless, “Your place or mine?” he asked.

“Yours is technically closer to the clinic,” she answered.

“Inviting yourself to spend the night?  Bold, Princess,” he teased.

“Oh, you know me,” she pulled him in for another kiss not even bothering to start off gently like he had.


	4. Okay, Maybe It Is Hard

Clarke rummaged through her hall closet in search of the ever-elusive extension cord.  “Aha!” she exclaimed as she pulled it out from the back of the space.  She quickly ran over to plug it into the wall, and plug her laptop into the other end.  Then bringing her laptop out on the balcony of her apartment, she placed it on the small patio end table.

She surveyed her patio:  twinkle lights lining the railings, a somewhat comfortable patio loveseat, complete with pillows and a snuggly blanket, a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on the small table next to the couch and her laptop on the other table which faced the love seat.  She smiled to herself, proud of her set up for the late-night Netflix date.

Clarke heard a swift knock at her door and pranced over to answer it, surprised that she hadn’t had to buzz Bellamy up.  However, before she had gotten to the door, it swung open and it was not who she had been expecting.

“Wells!” she cried in shock at her best friend’s unplanned visit.

“Hey, Clarke,” he sounded tired.

“Long day at work?” she asked, knowing the tone in his voice well.  Especially since she would often echo the sentiment.  Today, however, she had only worked a nine-hour shift and had left the clinic with a skip in her step, happy to see Bellamy tonight.

“Yeah,” he replied and walked into her living room to collapse on her couch.  “You will not believe the amount of emails I had to read through today.  Fraud case for a big company, and of course people slip up and use their work emails and so I have to read through every single one of them to see if it helps our case at all.”

“That sucks,” Clarke commiserated.  And while she would love to be companionable and try to cheer up Wells, she had plans with Bellamy and she was really looking forward to them.  She was in the process of thinking up something more to say when Wells sat up abruptly.

“What’s going on with your balcony?” he asked.

Clarke tried not to panic.  “Having an outdoor movie night,” she told him sticking to the truth.  As a lawyer, Wells’ bullshit detector was pretty spot-on.

“By yourself?” he questioned.

“Can’t a girl just go all out to have a nice night on her own?” she returned.

“Then why are there two wine glasses?”

“Huh, I must have forgotten I had already grabbed one when I got the second one out.” She gave herself a mental pat on the back for that one.

It was then that her phone beeped with a text message.  She looked at who it was and panicked, not before the thought _“I have really got to change that name on my phone”_ crossed her mind.

 

Man of Your Dreams  
Here!  On my way up.  Neighbor  
came down at perfect time.  
8:03 pm

 

Abort! Abort!  Wells is here!  
8:03 pm

 

“Who you texting?” Wells asked in the sing-song voice of someone who knew something was up.

“No one,” Clarke said, immediately on the defensive.

“Really?  Your phone beeps you look at it and then type something, and you want me to believe you’re not texting anyone?”

“Sorry, Counselor, I didn’t know I was on trial,” she fell back on their over-used joke when he was hounding her on something.

 

 

Shit!  What do you want me to do?

8:03 pm

 

 

 _Not text me again, goddamit!_ Clarke thought as she glanced at the new message on her phone.

Wells gave her a questioning, I-told-you-so look at the text.

“Okay, fine,” Clarke let her shoulders sag in defeat.  “It’s Bellamy.  He was coming over for a movie night.”

“Oh, really?” Wells said in teasing, knowing tone. “Your ‘just friend’ Bellamy is coming over at 8:00 at night to watch a movie just the two of you?  Moreover, if you’re ‘just friends’ as you so claim, then why did you hide it?” Wells’ status as an only child was a complete waste, he would have made a great patronizing brother to someone.  Then again, he took on that role for Clarke, so she guessed it wasn’t wasted.

 _Shit,_ “Because I knew you were going to react like this, read into things that aren’t there.”  She saw the opportunity and turned the tables on him.  “And what exactly were you planning?  Coming over to your friend’s place at 8:00 at night?  I don’t see you accusing yourself of being more than just friends with me.”

Wells made a disgusted face. “That’s because you’re my sister, so definitely going nowhere _near_ that road…again.” 

Clarke let out a short laugh at the memory of those awkward weeks at age fifteen that had followed a party at which she had kissed Brad Johnson.  Wells had seen her do it and immediately felt an overwhelming urge to punch Brad in the face; thus, he made the natural conclusion that he must have a crush on Clarke.  In order to test this theory, and find out if Clarke secretly or unknowingly harbored a crush on him, he decided the best course of action was to surprise her with a lip-crushing kiss.  After both Clarke and Wells being thoroughly repulsed by the act, he had realized he wanted to punch Brad not because he was jealous, but because he had wanted to protect Clarke from a creep.  Clarke never let him live it down.

Coming back to the present, she pressed on with reinforcing her “just friends” relationship with Bellamy…as far as Wells was knew anyway.  “So, you admit that Bellamy is coming over here as a friend and not something more?  We’re both busy people who just wanted to unwind with some Jurassic Park.”

“Okay, fine.  I’ll admit it’s _plausible_ that you two were just going to watch a movie as friends.”

“Good,” Clarke said satisfied at the averted disaster. Well, as much as it could be when you’re trying to argue with a well-practiced attorney who happens to be your best friend and brother and knows you ridiculously well.

“So when is he getting here?”

“Actually that last text message was him saying he was in the lobby,” she said as she buzzed in the imaginary Bellamy in the lobby, before shooting off a text a couple seconds later.

 

I got it figured out.  Come knock.  
8:05 pm

 

PS  
Remember:  Platonic!!!  
8:05 pm

 

Shortly, there was a knock on the door.  Clarke happily opened it and was immediately disappointed when she realized she couldn’t give Bellamy a peck on the lips in greeting as she had become accustomed to.  Instead she had to settle with just “Hey, Bell!”

“Hello, Princess,” he responded, starting to lean forward before he too realized they couldn’t kiss.

“I think you’ve probably seen my friend, Wells, a couple times in high school, but I have a distinct feeling I never introduced you,” Clarke said with a snort.  “So, Bellamy this is Wells; Wells, Bellamy.”

Wells stretched out a hand which Bellamy grasped firmly and said, “Good to meet you.”

“You as well.  I’ve heard a lot about you,” Wells told him.

“I would ask if it was good or bad, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer,” Bellamy chuckled and Wells returned the laugh. Some of the tension Clarke didn’t know she was holding released.  She had realized how important the meeting between the two most important guys in her life was to her, but she was overjoyed that it was seeming to go well…for all of two seconds.

“So, what are your intentions towards Clarke?”  Wells asked bluntly after he released Bellamy’s hand.

“Wells!” Clarke exclaimed.  She couldn’t believe him!

“Clarke,” he returned with a smile.

She glared at him, speaking through gritted teeth she hissed, “We _literally_ just had this conversation.”

“Yes, but is there not always at least two sides to every story?”

“Do _not_ go lawyer on me, Jaha,” she warned.  It was times like these that she hated that her long friendship with Wells let him become impervious to her most withering of stares.

“It’s not something I can turn off, especially when I have a few questions for your guest.  So, Bellamy?”

Clarke knew there was no way to win this battle.  Wells had a habit of questioning any her boyfriends or girlfriends that he met; she had just thought Bellamy would be safe, at least until they told Wells they were officially dating.  She had also been hoping that by the time they revealed that tidbit, that Wells would already approve of Bellamy.  She let out an exasperated groan.  “Can you at least wait until we’re not standing in the doorway until you jump on him?  And I will repeat for the thousandth time:  we’re just friends!”

“Okay, to the living room?” Wells suggested leading the way further into the apartment.

Clarke quickly stepped up to Bellamy and squeezed his hand, mouthing “I’m sorry.”  He squeezed her hand in return, but Clarke could see the slight anxiety lacing his eyes despite the bravado he was putting on.  As they entered the living room, Clarke released his hand reluctantly, painfully aware she couldn’t sit next to him and comfort or defend him too much as she had done for her partners in past questionings.  Hopefully, they could just get it through Wells’ thick skull that they were friends, but being someone who deals with lies professionally, Wells may be a little harder to convince.

Wells gestured for Bellamy to take the armchair in the living room, thus isolating him, unless Clarke wanted to be completely obvious and sit on the armrest.  She went to sit on the couch with Wells, positioning herself so that when Wells was talking to Bellamy should could give him encouraging looks over Wells’ shoulder.

Taking the initiative, Bellamy answered Wells’ first question before it could be asked a third time.  “Clarke is a beautiful and wonderful person.  Granted, we don’t _always_ see eye to eye on everything—never have, never will—but that is a great quality to have in a _friend_ because she’ll keep me on my toes.”

“And your ego in check,” Clarke supplied helpfully from her seat.  Despite being in interrogation mode, she couldn’t help but tease him, and hopefully lighten the tense mood that was currently settled over the room.

Bellamy chuckled.  “That too, I guess.  But really, Wells, it’s you I have to thank for getting her back in my life so that I could figure out that we could be friends.  If you hadn’t set up that date, I would never have gotten her back in my life.”

Wells nodded sagely.  “So, are you saying you’re ‘just friends’—”

“Yes!” Clarke cut him off.

“—or do you now or ever intend to pursue Clarke for other ‘interests?’” Wells ignored her.

“If you’re asking if I think Clarke’s hot, I would be an idiot to deny that.  No straight man with a beating pulse could deny that.”  Clarke shot him a glare over Wells’ shoulder, but Wells saw it and apparently found the exchange humorous.  “If you’re asking me if I would like to date Clarke now or in the future…I would have to say that any guy would be lucky to have a chance to be with her.”  _Slick_ , Clarke thought at his answer.  “And if you’re asking if I’m just looking to fuck her and leave, I would feel the need to inform you that I would personally kick whosever ass who tried to do that to her…assuming that isn’t what she also wanted.”

Clarke smiled, “Thank you for giving me a choice in the matter.”

“Always, Princess,” Bellamy replied with a genuine smile.  He shifted in his seat a little and looked back to Wells.

“I usually ask where you’re from and how long you’ve known Clarke, so I’ll just skip those.”

“Oh my god, Wells!  Can you stop the interrogation?”  Clarke agonized.

“Not until I’ve fully sussed out the situation.”  Wells insisted.

“I can’t believe you sometimes, Wells.  God, I need something to drink.  Anyone else?  Wine? Beer? Three shots of Jack in rapid succession?”

Bellamy chuckled.  “I do believe we were supposed to have some of that wine from that booth at the farmers’ market that you mentioned.”

“I’ll go get some.  Wells?”

Not yet looking away from Bellamy as if the second he did, Bellamy would reveal whatever Wells was truly after with all the unnecessary questions.  “I’m good, thanks.”

Clarke went out to the balcony and grabbed the bottle from the table and the two glasses and brought them into the kitchen where she reached into the cupboard and grabbed the bottle of Jack and some shot glasses…just in case.  She would deny taking a shot before going back to the living room if anyone asked.  But it was that moment she realized she probably shouldn’t have left Bellamy at Wells’ mercy for the few minutes she was away.  She hurried back dropped off the Jack and shot glasses and scuttled back to the kitchen to grab the wine glasses and bottle.  As she was leaving she heard the inquisitive question of “I thought we said wine not whiskey?”

She tossed her answer over her shoulder, “You may not have wanted it, but I did.” She heard both her boys laugh at that one.  When she returned to the living room again, Bellamy was trying his best to look nonchalant, but Clarke had been the one antagonizing him for too long to not notice he was a little bit rattled.

 It was then that Wells pulled out his favorite question, much to Clarke’s chagrin.  “Would you let your daughter—or your sister; I hear you’re really close—date a man like you?”

“Wells!  Seriously!  How many times do I have to reiterate the word ‘friends’ to you?” Clarke reprimanded.  She hated making Bellamy go through this; she also hated the fact that it made her feel like she couldn’t take care of or make decisions for herself.  Nonetheless, Wells had once told her that her dad had asked him to look out for Clarke when he couldn’t be there himself.  While her dad had been referring to college and when Clarke moved out, she felt like a little piece of him was with them as Wells hounded the newest person in her life.  She couldn’t help but think her dad would have been all talk and no bite when it came to this, whereas Wells pulled out all his lawyer-y tricks of questioning and intimidation.

“No, no.  I like this one,” Bellamy said.  She could tell he was thinking deeply about his answer.  “All honesty?  Had you asked me a few years ago, I probably would have said a hard no.  Actually, I probably would have said yes in all my bravado, but I would have been wrong.  But now, now I would definitely say yes.   I have worked hard to get to where I am and support my sister to get where she is.  I am proud of what I do and I love it.  But most importantly, I’m not looking to have a fling anymore.” He shifted his eyes to Clarke as he spoke; she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as he went on.  “The next relationship that I have, I’m putting heart and soul into it and I’m praying to all the gods that destiny is on my side.”

Clarke cocked an eyebrow at the word “destiny” and tried to smother a laugh; she just hoped that Wells didn’t read into it too deeply.

“Alright, you’ve passed the test,” Wells said relaxing back into the couch.

“Does that mean we can finally have that movie night that we were planning?” Clarke questioned anxiously.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Bellamy added.

“No, I think I’m going to go,” Wells said, starting to get up.  “I came here to relax from being too much of a lawyer and now I went and riled myself up again,” he added with a laugh.  “I think I’m getting a second wind to look at those emails.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Clarke told him getting up from her spot and following him to the door.

They paused by the door.  “He really does seem like a good man, Clarke.  Just don’t dive in too fast.”

“You’re worried he’s going to be another Isabel?” Clarke asked, referring to the girl that crushed Wells in college when he’d fallen hard and fast and she was his world until she ripped the carpet out from under him.  It turned out that she was only dating him because she found out that his parents were loaded and when she learned that he didn’t have access to his trust fund until he was twenty-five and even after that planned to use it mostly to give to charity after setting up a comfortable, but not outrageous life for himself, she dumped him.

“No.  But I always worry about you, Clarke.”

“We’re just friends, anyway,” Clarke repeated yet again.

“Whatever you say,” he said with a chuckle.  Wells kissed her temple and walked out the door, leaving Clarke wondering whether or not he believed the ruse.

She walked back into the apartment and found Bellamy on her balcony, just as she had planned for the night, both glasses of wine and the wine bottle on the table.  Bellamy lifted the blanket with which he had covered his legs; Clarke eagerly curled into his side under the blanket, Bellamy looping his arm around her shoulders.

She laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at him through her lashes.  “I’m sorry about that.  I had no idea Wells was going to jump on you like that.  Well, at least I hadn’t thought he would do it while we were supposedly not dating.”

Bellamy kissed the top of her head and chuckled.  “So you were well prepared for him to do it after we told him we were official?” he asked accusingly.

“Yeah, but I would have been able to give you ample warning,” Clarke defended.

“It’s okay, Princess,” he assured her.  “Though I have to say being on the receiving end of the ‘what are your intensions with my sister?’ interrogation/lecture was definitely a change of pace for me.”

Clarke let out a small laugh.  “Regretting going so hard on all the guys who wanted to date Octavia?”

“Nope.  If anything, I’m hoping I get the older-brother-I’ll-kill-you-if-you-hurt-my-sister vibe down half as well as Wells.”

“Was Bellamy Blake, _the_ Bellamy Blake, _scared_?” Clarke teased, pulling back to look at him in mock surprise.

“Shush you,” he said, guiding her head back to his shoulder.  “If he had come at me swinging and angry I would have known how to handle the situation; it was the trial by actual lawyer that had me questioning whether I was giving satisfactory answers.”

“Well, he did say you were a good man when he was leaving which is basically as close to the official stamp of approval as you can get.”

“Did he now?” Bellamy said, his usual swagger back in his voice.

“Don’t be getting cocky now,” Clarke warned, smacking him on the chest.

Bellamy laughed heartily and pulled her closer, “But that’s just part of my charm.”

“Why do I even put up with you?  Let’s just start this movie,” Clarke said reaching out to the laptop to hit play.

 

* * *

 

 

“Remind me why we had to go to the farmers’ market so early this week?” Clarke asked as they put their bags on Bellamy’s kitchen counters shortly before 11:00 in the morning.  She was not happy when Bellamy had told her he wanted to be at the market “no later than 9:30.”

“The chicken fajitas take 6-8 hours in the slow cooker; I wanted to make sure they would be ready at a decent dinner hour,” he explained. 

“Eight hours? Are you sure it isn’t going to be mush?”  Clarke exclaimed.

“If it’s on low,” Bellamy elaborated.  “Three to four if it’s on high.”

“Why couldn’t we have done that and let me sleep in?” she grumbled.  Bellamy smiled, surprised at how adorable he found it that Clarke was most definitely not a morning person.

“And I still don’t see why you needed to get up two hours before I got to your place.”

“Do you know how long it takes to tame the beast?” Clarke asked, gesturing to her hair which was currently flowing down her shoulders in soft waves, part of it pulled back from her face.

“I love your crazy just woke up hair,” he smiled, planting a kiss on her head as he passed her to start putting ingredients into the crockpot waiting on the counter.

Clarke snorted. “You may find it endearing for some godforsaken reason, but everyone else would just be wondering why I let a bird make its nest in my hair.”

Bellamy let out a hearty laugh and pulled her into his arms.  She stood there not returning his embrace, a pout plastered on her face.  “I’m sorry you had to get up so early.  If only I knew a way to make it up to you,” he told her with a mischievous smirk before kissing her pouting lips which started to turn up into a smile beneath his.  “I mean I have one idea that I think might works.” He kissed her jaw and then her pulse point, her head tilting eagerly to give him better access. “Since you had to get up so early,” he said, peppering his words with kisses down her neck towards her collarbone, “it’s really the least I could do.” He slid his hand up her legs, gaining purchase on her upper thighs and easily lifted her onto the counter.  He pushed the bottom of her skirt up and looped his thumb through the elastic of her panties. 

She responded enthusiastically to his ministrations, shifting her weight so that he could pull off her lacey thong.  “Yup,” she agreed in a breathy tone. “The least you could do.”  Bellamy continued on his path, happy in the knowledge he knew exactly what to do to make Clarke putty in his hands; not that he was in any better state when it came to her.  Like when she—yup, when she did that. 

Before they could get any further into what he had in mind to occupy the rest of the morning, they heard his front door burst open.  The two sprang apart, Clarke jumped off the counter and grabbed her underwear from where it was laying on the floor, shoving it into her purse just as Octavia rounded the corner.  “Clarke!” she called out in surprise.  “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Bellamy could already sense Clarke’s mind going into overdrive, having sensed Octavia’s smug tone at the sight of him and Clarke together early on a Sunday morning.  Bellamy jumped in, formulating a quick excuse. “I insisted Clarke show me around the farmers’ market her and Monty were talking about,” he said, and was relieved to see the tension leave Clarke’s shoulders.

“That’s nice of her.  Well, I just came by to see if I left my phone charger here after dinner last night.  I’m gonna check the living room.  As you were,” the smug, teasing tone still quite evident.

“Saved by the Bell,” he whispered in Clarke’s ear after Octavia left for the living room, a shit-eating grin accompanying the phrase he had always wanted to have the occasion to say.

“You did _not_ just say that,” Clarke responded with a groan.

“Found it!” Octavia said, popping her head back into the kitchen.  “I’ll see you later, Bell.  And Clarke, remember, stop by Grounders anytime.”

“I think I finally convinced Wells he can take a break from his case for a simple cup of coffee.  So we might be in tomorrow actually.”

“Sounds perfect!  See you then!” And with that she hurried off.

Clarke turned to Bellamy, “You don’t think she knows, do you?”

“No,” Bellamy assured her. “She just thinks that the more we hang out as friends, the easier her job will be to push us together.”

“If you say so,” Clarke said, still looking unconvinced.

“I do…Now didn’t she say something along the lines of ‘as you were?’” he teased, catching her back up in his arms and backing her toward the bedroom.

The peel of contented laughter that arose from Clarke was probably one of the best sounds he had ever heard in his life.

* * *

 

 

“We’re three for three of getting interrupted and almost caught when we’re at either of our places,” Bellamy was saying on the phone with Clarke one evening.  “How about we go out tomorrow night, dinner and movie in the park?”

Clarke thought back on the past week or so.  First there had been the run-in and interrogation by Wells, followed by the close call with Octavia—she was just glad Octavia had come when she did instead of five minutes later—and then, most recently there was the incident in which Bellamy had to explain to Jasper that he “ _already had_ plans for Tuesday, not that he and Jasper _should make_ plans for Tuesday.” Clarke had been running late to pick up Bellamy that night and had come across Jasper on his way out of the building.  When he had seen her he said “Oh, _oooh_.” She had then asked what that meant and he just replied “Nothing” and skipped over to his car, muttering something about ships.

“Yeah, sounds good to me,” she told Bellamy, already anticipating the cuddling on the blanket.  “Do you think you could meet me at the art studio?  I’m planning on using my afternoon to work on a couple projects.”

“Sure thing.  Can’t wait to see you.”

“You too,” Clarke said.  “Bye, Bell.”

“Bye, Princess.”

 

...

 

Clarke was lost in her painting when she faintly heard the door to the studio opening.  She dismissed it as she is wont to do while immersed in her art and continued to paint uninterrupted.

Several minutes later she heard a familiar voice from behind her. “That looks amazing, Princess.”

“Bell!” she said happily turning around, splattering some paint on the floor in the process.  “Wait, how long have you been there?  I thought I heard the door earlier, but that was a while ago.”

“I’ve been here for a bit,” he admitted.  “Checking out the other works, watching you in your element.  Speaking of your element,” he said with a gleam in his eye and walking towards her, “you’ve got a little paint, right there.”  He swiped the end of her nose with his finger.

She crossed her eyes and looked down at her nose, managing to see a splotch of cerulean blue.  “Wait a second, I wasn’t using that color.  You just put that there!” she accused him.

 “No, no, wait, hold that pose for a second,” Bellamy laughed getting out his phone.

“Bellamy,” she complained.

“Please, Princess!” he begged.

And because she would do pretty much anything for this man, she relented, “Fine.”  She crossed her eyes to peer at her nose again, and stuck her tongue out to the side for good measure.  She heard the telltale sound of a picture snapping.  “You had better not show anyone that picture!  Ever!” she warned and she returned her face to a normal state.

“Well, if they look at the background of my phone, they’re going to see it,” Bellamy returned as he continued to mess around on his phone.

“No!  Not fair.  You’re going to offer people to use your phone all the time if it’s there,” she scrambled towards him reaching for his phone.  He held it aloft and out of her reach, slowly backing away.  Clarke wasn’t one to give up so easily, so she began the chase.  She had managed to jump on his back and was reaching for the phone over his shoulder when a stern cough sounded behind her, followed closely by a chuckling laugh.

Laughing, she peered over her shoulder to see Lincoln, the owner of the studio and someone who had become a fast friend when she first arrived in TonDC and applied to teach a few art classes here.  “Hey Lincoln,” she greeted him as she slid off Bellamy’s back.  “I’d like you to meet my boyfriend.”

Bellamy turned around and Clarke registered a slight look of confusion the second before Lincoln said, “Bellamy?”

“Do you guys know each other?” she asked in disbelief, because goddamnit that would be their luck.  Purposefully not meet at their apartments so they don’t run into people they know and then it happens anyway.

“Uh, yeah,” Bellamy said, running his hand across the back of his neck.  “Lincoln’s O’s boyfriend.”

“Shit,” Clarke muttered so quietly she didn’t even know if Bellamy heard.  “Small world,” she said cheerfully to the room.

“You do know that Octavia is trying to set you up with a girl from high school, right?”  Lincoln asked Bellamy, a slight warning in his tone.  “You should probably tell her you already have a girlfriend.  You know that’s all she really wants in the first place.”

“Hi, girl from high school, right here” Clarke said with a wave and a point to herself, causing Lincoln to have the confused expression that was being passed around the room.  “Like I said, small world.”

“Does Octavia know you’re together?  Because she definitely didn’t give me that impression.”

“Yeah, about that,” Bellamy started.  “We are kind of keeping our relationship on the down low…”

“Why?” Lincoln asked.  And really it was a simple question and the answer that came to Clarke’s mind, i.e. that they just didn’t want Octavia and Wells to be right, seemed just a little petty right now. Especially when they were talking to Octavia’s boyfriend who just happened to be one of her own friends in the city.

Clarke sighed. “I just don’t think we’re ready to deal with all the added expectations and fuss that we know Octavia and others are going to make when they find out about our relationship,” she said, trying to better articulate why they are keeping it to themselves.

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other that long,” Bellamy said in a placating tone.  “But what are the chances you can just not tell Octavia about this?  We’ll tell her, we promise; when we’re ready, we’ll tell her.”

Lincoln eyed the two of them standing in front of him.  Clarke hoped they looked as pathetic as she felt in that moment.  “Two weeks,” he told them. “I’m giving you two weeks.  Octavia and I only been going out for a little over two months and I don’t want to start this relationship by hiding something from her.  But since I know you Clarke, and I know you would only ask this if it was important to you, I will let you have two weeks to tell her yourselves or I will do it for you.”

“Thank you, Lincoln,” Clarke rushed over to give him a hug.  “I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Clarke.  Your happiness is important to me.  But so is Octavia’s. Two weeks,” he warned.

“Well, Octavia did say that I would get along well with her boyfriend,” Clarke said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension.  She got a chuckle from both men in the room, though Bellamy’s was a little stilted.

* * *

 

Bellamy and Clarke were at the farmers’ market per usual Sunday routine; he was happy that this had become their little tradition in the weeks they had been together.  He looked at her.  She was wearing a simple shirt and shorts, her hair pulled up in a ponytail to keep it off her neck in the summer weather, but he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.  He watched her has she looked through the fruit on the table before her.  She picked up a cantaloupe, smelled it and put it back down.  She must have felt his eyes on her because she turned to look at him. She scrunched up her nose in the most adorable way.  “What?” she asked him.

“Just looking at the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen,” he told her honestly.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the table of fruit.  “God, Bellamy, you’re such a dork.”

He just smiled at her and shook his head.  _You’re fucked, Blake_ he told himself.  _You’ve been seeing her for what? Six-ish weeks?_ And for some reason, that didn’t scare him as much as it would have in the past.  Six weeks with the same girl in the past would have left him bored out of his mind, but with Clarke each day was its own adventure.  Just when he had thought he had her figured out or thought he knew how she would respond to something, she’d throw a curve ball.  She was a challenge that kept him on his toes, and he loved every minute of it.

The couple continued to walk around the farmers’ market discussing what they wanted to make for dinner tonight.  “We should look for aubergines; I saw this recipe on Pinterest that looked delicious!” Clarke insisted for the fifth time.

“Princess, when you had a bite of my eggplant side at the restaurant last week, you gave me a look like I poisoned you.”

“No I didn’t!” she tried to deny, even though Bellamy could distinctly remember the face she made and the disgusted “what are you eating?” comment that followed.  She pushed on, “Let me pull up the pin, the picture looked soooo good. Plus, the recipe is aubergine not eggplant.”

Bellamy couldn’t hide the smile that was rising to his cheeks. “Oh, Princess,” he said verging on laughter.  “Aubergine is just another name for eggplant.  Aubergine is just the British word for it.”

Clarke’s face dropped.  “Oh.  Well that’s dumb.  Why didn’t the recipe just say that?”

“Did you actually look at the recipe or did you just look at the picture and think, ‘Bellamy can make this for me’?”

Clarke tucked herself into his side, hiding her face in his chest before she looked up at him through shy eyelashes.  “Maybe it was more of the second option…” she said innocently.  He smiled and swooped in to give her a quick peck on the lips.  “You’re just such a good cook.  And you’ll actually do the hard recipes,” she continued.  “If it has more than seven steps, I usually just decide to do something else for dinner.”

Bellamy let out another laugh.  “You’re lucky you have me then, aren’t you?” he teased.

She looked up at him with a softness and another emotion he couldn’t quite name, “Yeah,” she agreed.  “I really am.”

Holding hands, they made their way towards the pasta booth that had become a regular stop for their trips.  When they were about five feet away Clarke quickly pulled her hand back as if burned.  Bellamy immediate turned to her, concerned.  “What?” he asked.

“Octavia, one o’clock,” she hissed.  Bellamy looked at the very booth to which they were headed and spotted his sister and her boyfriend, heads together discussing the various pasta options. 

At this very moment, Octavia glanced over her shoulder as if having felt their eyes on her.  “Bellamy!  Clarke!” she shouted and bounded the two step over to them to pull them each into a vice-like hug.  “Fancy seeing you both here.  Together,” she said in her usual tone when it came to the two of them.

“Oh, those two?” the lady at the pasta booth said.  “They come to the market every week.”

 _Thanks, lady._ Bellamy thought sarcastically.  Happy that a customer pulled her focus off the four of them.

“I’m sure it’s only been two or three times,” Clarke said; Bellamy hoped Octavia didn’t pick up on the strain in her voice.

“We should all go say hi to Monty if he’s here!” Octavia said excitedly.

“That sounds good.  Lead the way, Princess, since you know your way around here best,” Bellamy said aloud.  Internally saying, _Great, because we need another awkward run-in with a friend while we’re trying to have a date._

“He’s not here every week,” Clarke said truthfully.  “But I haven’t gone by his mom’s booth yet, so we’ll see.”

They started walking toward the other end of the market.  Bellamy was trying to think of different ways he could extract himself and Clarke and continue on their dinner date without alerting Octavia when Clarke nudged him and handed him her phone, a slight guilty look on her face.

 

Lincoln  
You know what this would be a good  
time for…  
10:29 am

 

Soon.  We promise.  
10:29 am

 

He handed her phone back to her with an apologetic look and looked up to see Monty standing behind a table with various wines next to a row of tables with several different vegetables.  “Hey guys,” Monty perked up upon seeing friends.  “Didn’t expect to see all of you here.”

Just then, Jasper poked out from behind, carrying a crate of more wines, “What you guys went on a double date and didn’t ask me?” he said in lieu of a greeting, his eyes dancing to Octavia’s with another unspoken question of which Bellamy had no idea.

Clarke stepped in. “Nope.  Just showing Bellamy around and then we ran into these two,” she jerked her thumb over at Octavia and Lincoln.

“Oh,” Jasper said, and Bellamy almost thought he sounded disappointed.

Monty spoke up, “Harper and Maya are around here somewhere.” He looked around the nearby area briefly.  “Anyway, we should all catch lunch together once my mom doesn’t need any more help.”

“That sounds great!” Octavia answered for everyone.  “And then we can go back to my place and have a big nice dinner with all the stuff we get.  Oh, and then there’s the concert in the park.  Lincoln and I were going to go, but you all are welcome to come to.”  His sister, ever the outgoing socialite.

Everyone else agreed and turned eagerly to himself and Clarke.  It was Clarke who took the reins, “Lunch sounds great to me, but the rest kind of sounds like more of a couple thing.”  Lincoln gave her a hard look from over Octavia’s shoulder; Bellamy on the other hand, was proud that she had thought of and pulled off that excuse so well.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his sister and their friends, he just wanted to spend some alone time with Clarke since they had both been busier than usual this past week.

“We’ll just call up Nathan and Monroe and Fox and see if they want to come too. It doesn’t have to be couple-y,” Octavia insisted.  By the gleam in her eye, Bellamy knew that she saw this as another opportunity in which she could subtly, but not actually that subtly, push him and Clarke together.  He raised his sister to be persistent and go after what she wanted; he just hadn’t thought it’d come back to bite him in the ass. “PS,” she added, “I’m not letting either you or Bellamy out of it.”

Clarke looked defeated, knowing it would be a fruitless fight against Octavia. “Okay, fine.  But the minute it gets too couple-y, I’m retreating to pjs and Netflix.”

“Bellamy?” Octavia said somehow both hopefully and in a warning tone.

“Yeah, yeah.  You know I can never say no to you, O.” His response causing his sister to excitedly start planning the whole day’s events in detail, focusing on what they can make that would feed everyone.

The group then turned back out to the market in search of Harper and Maya to fill them in on the plan.  Bellamy managed to pull Clarke to the back of the group.  “Raincheck on the non-aubergine/eggplant dinner?” he asked quietly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said with a smile, grabbing his hand for a short, reassuring squeeze.  Her hand was gone from his much too quickly for his liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, my heart just isn’t in this fic as much anymore and I feel like it’s suffering from my want to get more into my new story “All My Friends Are Heathens.” But I told myself to finish this story first, so I’m sticking to my guns and will complete this story before moving on. I only had one more chapter planned after this one, so it’s really just that push at the end of the race.


	5. The Big Reveal

Clarke knocked on the door of Octavia’s apartment and turned to Wells, “I promise, everyone is really nice—well almost everyone, Murphy takes a bit of getting used to, but he’s harmless.  You’ll be fine.”

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Wells said, nervous about meeting a roomful of new people.  Him and Clarke were similar in that way.  It was one of the reasons they got along so well as children; they could just hide out in a room together whenever their parents had a function that required their attendance, or at least a brief appearance.

“Because you need to get out more.  Or at the very least step away from your case for a couple hours,” Clarke explained.  “It was this or sign you up for a dating app,” she told him with a stern, pointed look.

“Still not over that one, yet?” he asked guiltily. “However, I must point out that you did end up with not only one new, or well old, person in your life, but with several, as evidenced by this party you are forcing me to attend.”

“Fucking lawyers and their convincing arguments,” Clarke mumbled just loud enough for Wells to hear just as the door was opening.

“Clarke!” Octavia greeted with her usual enthusiasm.  “And you managed to drag Wells out here, too!”  She pulled Clarke into the apartment.  “You know you can just walk in, right?”  Clarke simply made an awkward face, causing Octavia to laugh as she pulled Wells into the foyer. 

They made their way into the living room where the entire group was already waiting; Clarke’s eyes instinctively seeking out Bellamy who was sprawled over the same loveseat/armchair that they had shared at Octavia’s last big gathering. He looked up and greeted them jovially, “Hey there, Princess.  Good to see you again, Wells.”

This resulted in a chorus of welcomes from those who hadn’t seen her walk into the room.  Clarke responded in kind before introducing Wells.  “Everyone this is Wells.  Wells, you know Bellamy and you met Octavia and Jasper at the coffee shop, then there’s Maya, Jasper’s girlfriend, Monty and his girlfriend Harper.  Oh, and you know Lincoln too—see I told you, you would know a couple faces.  And it’s Monroe, right? Or do you prefer Zoe?”

“Either is fine,” the woman said with an easy smile.

“And then there’s Murphy and Raven, and Miller, and I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” Clarke continued, feeling like she’s testing her memory on naming half the people in front of her.

“Bryan,” said the guy next to Miller.

“And then there’s Bryan,” Clarke finished.

Octavia looked around at all her guests pleased; being the host of a large group had always been where Octavia thrived.  “Clarke, why don’t you go make Bellamy give up half of that couch?  And Wells, you can sit over by me, Lincoln, and Monroe.”

Wells gave Clarke a look like she had betrayed him by making him sit across the room.  “You know Lincoln,” she whispered to him reassuringly as she went to go take her spot by Bellamy.  Octavia’s insistence of pushing her and Bellamy together would at the very least get her next to her boyfriend, if not necessarily in the exact cuddled position she preferred.  “Move it or lose it, Blake,” she said as she stood over Bellamy.

“What will I lose exactly?” he asked cheekily.

She thought for a moment. “Your ability to get up because if you don’t give me space, I _will_ sit on you,” she told him, fully expecting him to move.

“I don’t think you will, Princess,” he responded not backing down.

She narrowed her eyes.  “You’re pushing it, Bellamy.” 

“I really don’t think you’ll do it,” he continued, a challenge in his eyes.  Clarke was never one to back down from a challenge, especially one issued by Bellamy Blake.  She abruptly turned and plopped down onto his lap, making no effort to do so lightly.  He groaned at the sudden and forceful weight on his lap.  Clarke caught his eye and smirked.

Across the room, Octavia burst into laughter.  “I’m pretty sure that was almost an exact re-enactment of high school.  I swear I remember that precise thing happening during a meeting of sport team captains.”  Clarke and Bellamy joined her laughter, remembering the meeting as well.  Although she was much happier with the end result here than she had been back in high school.

“Well, he didn’t get me to move until after that meeting then, and he’s not getting me to move now, either,” Clarke declared.

Bellamy huffed and shifted them into a slightly more comfortable position, though she still remained firmly in his lap.  “And this time I don’t mind nearly half as much as I did then,” he whispered quietly and echoing the thought that crossed her mind moments before.

The group simply sat and chatted for a bit, the conversation flowing between the small group of people by whom each was sitting and the group as a larger whole.  But before too long, they broke out into a game of Cards Against Humanity which evolved into a drinking game in which everyone whose card wasn’t chosen took a drink.

Jasper started manically laughing as he picked out his cards to play for Monty.  “No, no guys, just you wait.  This is hilarious!  And it’s true!  Monty will understand.”

Everyone looked at him skeptically and placed their own cards.  As Monty read all the options, they knew exactly when he got to Jasper’s because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t even read the cards.  Finally, he managed to spit out, “When I was tripping on acid _take-backsies_ turned into _the violation of our most basic human rights_.”  Quickly followed by him throwing the black card in Jasper’s general direction and saying, “Take the damn card, Jasper.”

After everyone else had taken a drink of whatever they had in hand, Miller raised the question that was on everyone’s lips, “Okay, so I know it’s funny, but not exactly why it’s _that_ funny.”

Jasper and Monty started laughing all over again.  “So, one time when me and Jasper were in wilderness camp, probably around sixteen or seventeen…” Monty started before dissolving back into giggles.

Jasper tried to pick up the story.  “We found what we thought were nuts gathered in a bucket hidden in the woods…”

“We don’t know what kind of nuts they were, or even if they were nuts, but we decided to eat them.  And, needless to say we took quite a trip…”

“At one point, I was holding on to a stick that I thought was magical and could protect me from anything. Monty was being taunted by a pinecone, so I decided to give him the protection…”

“I immediately shouted, ‘no take-backsies’ when he made a grab to take it back from me—that pine cone was being really rude and threatening.  So when Jasper finally yanked the stick out of my hands, I was quite angry that he would go against the sacred rights of no take-backsies…”

“He literally would not talk to me until a day after the trip when we both actually realized what our fight was about.”

As the story progressed and at its conclusion, the rest of the group joined into the duo’s laughter.  Harper looked to Maya, “Can you actually believe we’re dating these doofuses?”

Maya returned the broad grin, “I wouldn’t put it past them for this to have happened yesterday…completely sober.  And I don’t know what that says about me for dating him.”

“Hey,” Monty and Jasper said in unison, before sharing a look that clearly said that they wouldn’t put it past each other either.

They finished the game, with Murphy pulling in just ahead of Jasper; while Jasper managed the highly comedic word plays and scenarios, it was Murphy who lived up to the tagline of the game: “a card game for horrible people.”

Then, after a bit of arguing, they finally settled on a movie to watch.  Bellamy got up to help Octavia with the popcorn, easily setting Clarke to the side in order to do so.  Everyone took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, stretch, or as Clarke did, grab one of the blankets Lincoln had brought out from Octavia’s closet.  Clarke, snuggled in her blanket, took up as much of the couch/armchair as she could.  Bellamy soon came back, two bowls of popcorn in hand.  When he turned to his previous spot he simply raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Move your feet, you lose your seat,” Clarke crowed with a grin like the cat who got the canary. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just use the Clarke Griffin method of problem solving,” he teased with a glint in his eyes before sitting on top of her.

Clarke squealed and squirmed.  “You’re crushing me!  I can’t breathe!”

“Should’ve thought of that before,” he teased.  She pounded on his back with her fists and tried to push him off to no avail.  “I’ll make you a deal,” he said.  “I get up and then we _share_ the couch.”  Then after a second of thought, “And the blanket.”

“Okay, fine,” she relented, a secret glee filling her stomach at the prospect of possibly getting away with a little bit of cuddling under the blanket.

After the movie had started she caught a slight movement from across the room.  Monroe had tucked her feet under Wells’ legs and he was leaning forward to get a blanket which he then tossed over both of their laps.  The two shared a shy smile.  Because she couldn’t possibly let this slide, she snuck out her phone.

 

Wells Jaha

 

Don’t think I didn’t see that, Jaha ;)  
10:17 pm

 

See what?  
10:23 pm

 

You and Miss Monroe having a moment  
over there and now snuggling under a blanket.  
10:23 pm

 

A) We are not.  
B) You’re one to talk!  
10:23 pm

I assure you, sir. I have no idea to what you  
are referring.  
10:24 pm

 

Also, you totally are!  
10:24 pm

 

You and Bellamy all cuddled together and  
definitely holding hands under that blanket.  
10:24 pm

 

We are not! It’s a small couch!  
10:25 pm

 

“No phones!” Octavia reprimanded, looking between Clarke and Wells whose faces were lit by the light of their phones.  Clarke started to put hers away when she saw another message from Wells:

 

This isn’t over yet, Griffin.  
10:25 pm

 

Not in your wildest dreams, Jaha.  
10:25 pm

 

“No phones!” Octavia said again.  Clarke and Wells just narrowed their eyes at each other across the room.  Clarke tucked her phone back into her lap when she saw Wells do the same.  But within second she saw it light up again.

 

Octavia Blake  
So what were you and Wells talking about?  
10:26 pm

 

How adorable him and Monroe are being.  
10:26 pm

 

He tried to deny it.  
10:26 pm

 

I know, right!  I knew they would hit it off  
the moment I met Wells.  
10:26 pm

 

I’m such a good matchmaker.  
10:26 pm

 

Speaking of adorable…you and Bellamy right  
now…huh? Huh?  
10:26 pm

 

JUST  FRIENDS!!!  
10:27 pm

 

“What were you _just_ saying about phones?” Bellamy voiced.  He had been watching Clarke’s conversations from over her shoulder.

Octavia stuck her tongue out at him and everyone returned to watching the movie.  Clarke sighed happily into her spot where Bellamy had one arm casually thrown across the back of the couch, subtly around her shoulders, while his other hand was gently rubbing patterns into her palm under the blanket.  Yup.  This was just where she wanted to be.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke looked at the clock for the hundredth time since 10:00, it now read 10:47.   She could have sworn her and Bellamy agreed to meet at her place at 10:00 to go to the farmers’ market.  Hell, she knew they agreed on that time because she had looked back through their texting conversation from yesterday to confirm it; she had double and even triple and quadruple checked that conversation.  She reached for her phone, about to call him for the seventh time to tell him get his lazy butt out of bed—god knew that man could sleep like the dead.  But just as she was starting to hit redial, her phone began to ring, the contact who was calling:  Man of Your Dreams.  She somehow always managed to get distracted and forget to change that name, but by now she would probably be confused if her phone said “Bellamy Blake” instead of the moniker he had given himself on that fateful first date.

“Bellamy Blake!  I swear to god!  You are running so goddamn late this morning, I have it in my mind to—”

“I’m sorry, Miss?” the voice on the other end of the line was definitely _not_ Bellamy’s.

“Uh…” she came up short.

“Um, Ms.—I’m sorry he only has you down as ‘Princess’ in his phone…”

“Griffin.  Clarke Griffin,” she told him, confused. “Who are you and why do you have Bellamy’s phone?”

“That’s why I’m calling Ms. Griffin, there’s been an accident—”

Clarke’s stomach dropped out of her body and her heart started beating deafeningly in her ears; she couldn’t breathe.  “No,” she said, not even realizing she was speaking.  “No, no, no, no, no…” She had heard those words once before in her life and once was more than enough for her; they came back to her now, echoing in her mom’s voice, _Clarke, Clarke, honey, there’s been an accident.  Your dad—your dad…”_ Abby hadn’t even been able to finish the sentence.

“Miss Griffin!” she faintly realized the voice on the other end of the phone was yelling to get her attention.  She took a deep breath, trying to get any amount oxygen into her lungs that had forgotten how to work.  The person continued, “We’re rushing Mr. Blake to TonDC General.  We didn’t know who else to call, you were the first number in his phone.”

“Octavia,” she said faintly.  “Octavia, she’s his sister.” She felt like she was floating, everything intangible, nothing quite real.

“Okay, ma’am,” the voice was strong and sure. “We’ll find her number.  You can meet her at TonDC General, that’s where we’re taking Mr. Blake.”

“Okay,” Clarke said, not even fully realizing she was still on the phone.  When the line went dead, Clarke lost all feeling and motivation in her legs, collapsing where she stood in the middle of her kitchen, sobs raking her chest.  Part of her knew that she should get up and try to go to the hospital, but every time she tried her legs would refuse to gain any traction.  The worst part of her mind kept whispering in that quiet voice, _It won’t do you any good anyway.  All you did was sit there while your dad died in the operating room.  That’s all that will happen again.  You’ll sit there doing nothing, while someone else you love dies and there’s nothing you can do about it._

She was still curled in a ball on her kitchen floor when Wells strode into her apartment, calling out her name desperately.  He knelt down next to her and pulled her into his lap, brushing his hand through her hair and murmuring calming words.  An unknown time later, when she finally blinked up at him through tear-soaked lashes, he asked, “You ready to go to the hospital?” She nodded her head quietly. “Well, first let’s make sure they don’t mistake you for a raccoon,” he teased gently, trying to pull the slightest smile out of her.  He reached up on the counter for a napkin before calming wiping the streaking mascara from her cheeks. 

She let him guide her from her apartment and into his car, taking and squeezing her hand as soon as he was in the driver’s seat car in gear.  He held her hand all the way there and ushered her in to the building, never letting go. Wells had been her rock the moment she had gotten the call about her father all those many years ago, and now he stepped back into that role.  His hand and presence solid next to her dazed one; he grounded her back down to earth so she wouldn’t float away.

They walked into the hospital, a permanent knot in her stomach and her breathing still a little ragged. She saw Octavia pacing and yelling at nurses before she finally let Lincoln hold her against his chest where she broke down and sobbed.  Lincoln spotted Clarke and Wells first.  When they were within five feet, he nudged Octavia whose eyes flew to Clarke.  She released her grip on Lincoln and pulled Clarke into a tight hug.  “That fucking fucktard!  He had to go and get himself into a fucking accident and I’m going to fucking kick his ass as soon as he’s out of surgery because he’s not fucking allowed to leave me.  He’s not.  He promised.  That fucking asshole promised.”

Clarke held Octavia as she ranted and cursed under her breath.  “We’ll kick his fucking ass together,” Clarke assured her, summoning strength back into her body; someone else needed her to be strong more than she needed to fall apart right now, and she damn well wasn’t going to let Octavia down. The two girls managed to find their way to a pair of seats, while Lincoln and Wells hovered over them protectively.

They sat there for hours without hearing anything, the waiting weighing down everyone.  Wells nudged Clarke’s shoulder and pointed toward the hallway.  Clarke followed his direction and saw her mom walking towards her.  She jumped up from her seat and threw herself into her mom’s arms, her tears finding their way back to the surface.  “Mom, I can’t do this again.  I just can’t.  I can’t lose him, too.”

“I know, sweetie.  I know.  It’ll all be alright. You’ll get through this. It’ll be okay. It’s a different day, a new situation. It doesn’t mean it’s going to go the same way.  If I remember anything about that Blake boy it’s that he’s about as strong and stubborn as it comes, he’ll fight,” Abby soothed as she rubbed Clarke’s back. Clarke continued to cry for a little while, allowing her mom to comfort her in a way that no one else could.

“Wait, how did you get here?” Clarke asked pulling away, only just realizing her mom lived and worked three hours away.

“Wells called,” her mom said by way of explanation. 

Clarke looked over her shoulder to where her best friend was still standing near Octavia and Lincoln.  He gave her a sad smile.  Clarke held out her hand to him and he came walking over and grasped her hand once it was in reach. 

“I’m going to go see if my name and reputation can pull any info from the staff,” Abby said, releasing her daughter to Wells.

“Thank you,” Clarke told him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Anything for you,” he told her and pulled her into a hug.

“How did you know?” she asked.  “To call her?”

“When Lincoln called me to go check on you, he explained what happened.  I knew immediately that the person you really needed at that moment was your mom.  I barely got out the words ‘motorcycle,’ ‘accident,’ and ‘boyfriend’ before your mom was saying she’d be here in two hours, traffic and speed limits be damned.”

Clarke nodded solemnly.  A half second later she jerked her head up to look at him, “Wait, how did you know?”

Wells managed a smile, “What? That he’s your boyfriend?  Please, Clarke, how long have we known each other?”  Clarke shook her head at him, the smallest smile appearing on her lips.  “I had my suspicions when you were entirely too adamant about being ‘just friends’ and then after I talked to him before your movie night however many weeks ago, I knew for sure.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.  Plus, it meant that I was right all along about making that dating profile and I was basking in that knowledge and figuring out the best way to rub it in your face when you finally told me,” he teased.

“I don’t know whether to hug you or punch you for that comment,” Clarke gave him a deadpan look.

“I’ll take the hug,” he said, pulling her into his arms.  They then noticed Abby walking back from the nurses’ station, a doctor with a chart in tow.  Clarke and Wells moved to stand next to Octavia and Lincoln.

The doctor looked to the group, directing his gaze to Octavia, the next of kin.  “Mr. Blake just got out of surgery.  Everything went well, he’s breathing on his own and he is expected to make a full recovery given time.” Everyone sagged with relief, Clarke and Octavia shedding a couple tears of a completely different variety from earlier.

 

* * *

 

 

Bellamy felt like he was fighting his way through a fog.  Finally, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel and heard an insistent beeping that grew louder and louder.  He blinked again, and the sunlight transformed into a fluorescent light, the beeping into those coming from nearby machines.  He was lying on a bed and had never felt worse or in more pain in his entire life.  The last thing he remembered was riding his bike on his way to Clarke’s to go to the farmers’ market per their usual Sunday routine.  He looked around and realized he was in a hospital bed and Octavia was sitting next to him holding his hand, a hopeful look in her eye.  “How you feeling, big brother?” she asked quietly.

He tried to answer her, but his throat was too tight and dry; all that came out was a croak.  She rushed to hold a glass of water to his lips, taking it from the bedside table.  He attempted to give her a menacing look that said “I can do it on my own,” before realizing he probably couldn’t and ceased to put up a fight. 

Before he could attempt to talk to her again, a nurse walked in who quickly turned around to find a doctor.  After gently prodding him, checking his bandages and machines, and asking a few questions, they gave him medicine and he passed out again.  This happened countless more times, but he at long last found himself with some conscious, coherent, uninterrupted alone time with Octavia.

“So, the question you’ve been asked thousands of times in the last few days:  how you feeling, big brother?” she asked.

“Aside from the usual pain and discomfort, not too bad,” he told her honestly.

“How close to normal?” she asked, a suspicious gleam in her eye.

“Pretty much there, as long as you don’t count the necessity of being on bedrest in a hospital.”

“Okay, so I can ask you the question I’ve been dying to ask since the accident?”

“Sure, O.  Ask me anything,” he said, but the moment he finished his sentence, he started to regret his words.

“Why the fuck did you hide your and Clarke’s relationship from me?  Did you just not want me to know how much of a matchmaking genius I was?” she nearly shouted at him.

Bellamy was slightly taken aback both by the volume and the question.  “How did you…?”

“Well, she was a complete wreck from the moment she heard about the accident, then I overheard her talking to her mom about her ‘boyfriend,’ but the thing that made it undeniably true was when I straight up asked her.  She avoided the question at first, but then finally confessed that you wanted to be the one to tell me.  So, was it a more recent development or was it literally the two months since I signed you up for that dating app?”

Bellamy was silent, trying to think of the best way to explain the situation.  But it was the silence that gave him away.

“It was the whole two months!” she shouted. Then a grin started across her face, the most self-satisfied, shit eating grin he thought he had ever seen.  “Bell!  You’re a fucking ass for not telling me, but I’m so happy for you!  That’s amazing!”

Bell found himself blushing.  Then the thoughts of Clarke quickly became those of concern; he knew that his getting in a motorcycle accident would put her in the mindset of her father.  “How is she?”

Octavia continued to smile.  “She’s literally been here every minute she doesn’t have to work.  It took me, Wells, Lincoln, and her mom to get her to go home and sleep after your accident.  My phone has a constant inflow of demands for updates whenever she’s not here.  But other than obsessive worry about you, she’s doing fine.” She looked down at her phone, “In fact, she just texted me that she just got here.”

Bellamy’s whole face lit up.  Octavia looked pleased, “I think I’ll just meet her in the hall and then let you two have some time to yourselves.”  When she was just about to walk out the door, Octavia stopped and turned to him. “So that time I walked in on the two of you in the kitchen when I was looking for my charger?  Nope.  No.  Changed my mind, I don’t want to know.”

Bellamy laughed and sat up straighter.  Then he heard Octavia talking in the hallway, “He’s awake.”

Then it was the voice that made his heart sing.  “Really?” Clarke’s voice asked full of hope and excitement.  Within seconds the face that accompanied the voice came bursting into the room, a smile stretched across her face.  “Bell!”

“Hi Princess,” he said, mirroring her broad grin.

“How you feeling?” she asked, coming to his side tentatively and taking his hand in hers.

“Growing sick of that question,” he teased.

“Seriously?  Are you doing alright?  No out of the ordinary pain? No temperature?  You’re not overexerting yourself or pulling at your stitches?”

“No, Dr. Griffin,” he gave her a playful manner.  “I’m feeling a-okay.  My question is how are _you_ doing?”

This seemed to flip a switch inside Clarke, sparking her inner fire.  “Don’t you every fucking do that to me again, Bellamy Blake!  I will fucking murder you myself, if you _ever_ put me through that again!  Do you know how hard it was for me to get that phone call?”

“Princess,” he said in a calming tone, his heart going out to her; of all the things that happened, he hated putting Clarke and Octavia through the pain and worry they had felt.  “I’m sorry you had to go through that.  But I’m okay, I’m still in one piece.  I’m not going anywhere.”

She seemed to deflate.  “It’s just I can’t, I can’t lose you, Bell.  I l—” she cut herself off, her eyes growing wide with the words she swallowed.

“What was that, Princess?”

“Hmm?”

“What were you about to say?” he persisted.

“No.  It’s too early.  Forget it…It’s just I can’t lose you, Bell.  You’re too important to me.  You’ve become such a big part of my life in these past two months and I don’t know what I would do without you.  You’re the first person I call in the morning and the last person I think about at night.  And I l—” she swallowed her words again.

“I love you, too,” he told her with a beaming grin, barely holding in laughter.

“Me too!” she said excited as he took the words she wouldn’t say.

He couldn’t help but tease her even in this moment.  “You love yourself, too?”

“Fuck you, you know what I mean,” she replied, annoyed with his antics.

“Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”

She looked at him with both annoyance and love shining in her eyes, “I love you, Bellamy Blake.”

“And I love you, Clarke Griffin,” he returned her teasing look supplemented with love.  “And if you don’t kiss me right now, I think I’m going to explode.”

She laughed and brought her lips down onto his with a kiss, both of their smiles preventing it from deepening any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s all she wrote. “She” being me. And for all my talk of my heart not being in it last chapter, I’m actually kind of sad to see this story go.
> 
> Fun Fact: I once played the combination of cards that Jasper did in Cards Against Humanity. When writing this scene, I was brought back to it and could totally see the two of them having that situation in real life.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, kudos'd, or commented on this fic! And thank you to my friend who reads my stories and is my sounding board before I post; this wouldn't be nearly as good or fun without you.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, Kudos and comments are without fail appreciated. Seriously, they make my day.
> 
> Also, I finally broke down and got a [Tumblr](https://dracoterrae9099.tumblr.com/). I really don't know what I'm doing (technologically challenged and socially awkward over here; please don't judge me). But feel free to come chat at me about Bellarke or my stories or basically anything.


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